The Lure of the Lotus
by Adamantwrites
Summary: The Tong asks Adam for a favor; he feels he can't refuse but it will teach him more about love than he could possible imagine. All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their owners. All OC's and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.
1. Chapter 1

**This was my idea for NaNoWri but I know I won't be able to write everyday and I don't think this will reach 50,000 words anyway so it's just a WIP. If you enjoy my work, I hope this adds to your holidays - a small gift to you. And thank you for reading.**

 **The Lure of the Lotus**

 _"_ _For nine days I was driven by fierce winds over the teeming sea: but on the tenth we set foot on the shores of the_ _Lotus-eaters_ _, who eat its flowery food. On land we drew water, and my friends ate by the ships. Once we had tasted food and drink, I sent some of the men inland to discover what kind of human beings lived there: selecting two and sending a third as herald. They left at once and came upon the Lotus-eaters, who had no thought of killing my comrades, but gave them lotus to eat. Those who ate the honey-sweet lotus fruit no longer wished to bring back word to us, or sail for home. They wanted to stay with the Lotus-eaters, eating the lotus, forgetting all thoughts of return. I dragged those men back to the shore myself by force, while they wept, and bound them tight in the hollow ships, pushing them under the benches. Then I ordered my men to embark quickly on the fast craft, fearing that others would eat the lotus and forget their homes. They boarded swiftly and took their place on the benches then sitting in their rows struck the grey water with their oars."_

From _The Odyssey_ – "The Land of the Lotus Eaters".

 **1**

Although I initially said no, I finally capitulated. It was mainly curiosity that brought about my agreeing to protect and deliver Fang Zhen's new bride to Chinatown here in Virginia City and also the longstanding friendship my father has had with Lee Chang. It certainly wasn't due to vanity as I wasn't sure if Lee Chang had insulted me or not when he made the proposition. But I've experienced enough in my 36 years to let many things go by without comment.

But I should explain the events. I have had to let some time pass, put some distance between myself and what happened so that I can, in the most honest and accurate way, relate matters. And I'll try to be objective but it's going to be difficult.

It was late on Good Friday; we had been to church, had dinner, and Hoss was about to turn in when the door knocker sounded. Pa went pale as Joe was still in town and when Joe was out, Pa always worried that something would happen; Joe had quite the temper. Before leaving town after services, Pa had given Joe enough cash to stay at the Imperial House overnight, but that didn't preclude some furious father from unloading his shotgun into Joe's backside as he scuttled out a window of some girl's room or to be beaten senseless in a saloon because he perceived an insult where there was none – or there was. Hoss looked from one of us to the other and then I volunteered to get it. It was Lee Chang and I almost heard the sigh of relief from my father.

Lee Chang had Americanized his name as some of the Chinese had done who wanted to assimilate into our culture – reversing their first and last names. Lee Chang and many other Chinese found my father a help in explaining American traditions and laws as he didn't make the man feel like an "ignorant barbarian" for asking. That was how Lee Chang once phrased it. Their friendship had developed over the years and it didn't hurt that Hop Sing, who was a respected member of the Tong, was treated as family instead of a menial.

"Come in, Lee Chang," I said, stepping aside so he could enter. Referring to a man by both names was considered respectful as one acknowledged his family line by doing so. He turned his head to look back out into the darkness, and I saw another man standing beyond the porch, holding both horses' reins. Lee Chang spoke curtly in Chinese and the man responded in kind. Then again, smiling at me, Lee Chang dipped his head and walked past me into the light. My father had risen from his chair and met Lee Chang, putting out his hand. Lee Chang made a quick bow and then put out his hand as well.

"It is with many apologies that I visit my good friend, Ben Cartwright, so very late on what is to you, a holy day. Many apologies."

"A friend never has to make apologies. Please… sit. Hop Sing's staying in town with family after the Tong meeting, which I suppose you know." Lee Chang smiled and nodded slightly. "But Hoss can put the kettle on and brew some tea; he's watched Hop Sing do it hundreds of time."

Lee Chang declined with "humble" thanks and so Hoss excused himself for bed. I started to do the same but Lee Chang asked me to stay. It was I he wanted to see.

My curiosity was suddenly roused and I raised my brows at my father who almost imperceptibly shrugged. Lee Chang was my father's friend, my father's age and Joe and Hoss, friends with Jimmy Chang, Lee Chang's only surviving son. I walked the line between those relationships, friendly but not a friend to either Chang. I wondered what business Lee Chang could have with me, so I sat back down and waited.

"Can I offer you some brandy, perhaps? A glass of port?' my father asked.

Lee Chang slightly nodded his head as he sat. "A glass of port may help my words flow more smoothly. I thank you."

My father poured both of them a glass of port – I declined

Lee Chang, took a sip and then turned my way, speaking with carefully chosen words.

"I have come on important business." Lee Chang paused, taking another sip of port and gathering himself. "A beloved niece of Fang Zhen is arriving from China."

"Another niece?" I hoped I sounded as scornful as I felt. "He already has four other nieces of varying ages living with him and his wife, doesn't he?"

I was always suspicious that Fang Zhen, the wealthiest and most powerful man in Chinatown and the highest-ranking Tong member, had a bevy of "nieces" living in his house. Every year or so for the past eight years, another young woman would show up, and now, at 60-plus years, Fang Zhen was welcoming another "niece" into the household.

"Family is most important to Fang Zhen. He often sends for relatives to join him in this fine country."

"Interesting that he has no nephews," I said, and my father cleared his throat in disapproval. Lee Chang merely lowered his eyes. "But what does Fang Zhen expanding his family have to do with me?" I sat forward in my chair; it was the closest I could come to confronting the veracity of what Lee Chang was saying.

"I shall explain with your kindest patience." Lee Chang smiled again but it wasn't a smile of pleasure. He took another sip of port. "It was discussed in the meeting tonight that the newest…niece of Fang Zhen will be arriving in San Francisco in almost a week. She is accompanied by a…chaperone, I believe is the word, her maid, Ju. They will need to be accompanied to Virginia City, to be kept safe from anyone who may waylay them and perhaps harm the new niece."

"And?" I waited.

"It was discussed among us as to who would be the best person to accompany the two women and since both you, Adam, and your father are so well-respected by the members of the Tong, it was decided that we would humbly request that you set out to bring the two women, the niece and her chaperone, safely to Fang Zhen's household."

"What about the other 'nieces'? Who escorted them from San Francisco to Virginia City?"

"It is unimportant as the other 'nieces' were not of the same caliber or of the same value as this one and did not require it. This niece…" Lee Chang paused, holding the small glass in his hand. He glanced down at the pale liquid. "This niece seems to inflame a man with her 'virtues". It was agreed many years ago, when she was a mere child, that she would join her most generous, venerable uncle in America. But matters interfered. Revolution broke out in China and it delayed her passage for many years. Once that was resolved, the niece was the center of…well, many men bartered for her hand in marriage so Fang Zhen was pressed to send much money which he gladly did, to bring his niece to him. It was finally agreed upon that the niece would come to America now before something untoward might happen."

"Why not send a Chinese man to escort her?"

"Because none of them are _t‵ai ji‵an_ , what you call a eunuch."

I had to smile at that and glanced at my father who suppressed a laugh.

"Oh," Lee Chang said, flustered, "it is not that we think that you are without…"

I put up my hand. "It's all right," I said. "I think I know what you mean."

"It is believed that a Chinese man would be so bewitched by Wu Lien's beauty that he would want her for himself. It is known that men of your culture do not find women of Chinese birth to be desirable nor their beauty pleasing and then there is the legal matter of miscegenation... It was not meant as any insult to your manhood, Adam."

"No insult has been taken," I said, smiling. I knew what was really behind the elders' choice of me as the escort. For one thing, laws prohibited Chinese men from taking white wives or white men taking Chinese brides and laws were still being pushed that prohibited all interracial marriages. This was actually supported by the Tong members and the Chinese community in general. Hop Sing once revealed to me that there weren't many available Chinese women. Most of the men had left their wives behind in China, intending to return to them but often found that difficult. Any available Chinese woman, even the prostitutes that had been brought over by companies contracted to expand the railroad tracks, were quickly married off. It was not unusual for a Chinese laborer to have a wife both in China and here if possible. It was assumed that white men found no attraction in Chinese women and with the few Chinese women I dealt with in Chinatown shops or in the streets of Virginia City, I could understand why. They weren't even of particular attraction to the Chinese men except that they could cook, wash clothes, bear children and warm a man's bed. It seems that all men want a beautiful woman.

"Nevertheless," I said to Lee Chang, "I have duties here at home. I don't know that I can undertake such a journey so it would be best that you find someone else."

"We had considered Joseph and Hoss going together…"

I laughed then. "Putting the fox in charge of the henhouse, huh?" Nevertheless, I was a bit flattered that they believed that it would take both my brothers to replace me.

"Oh, I see…" Lee Chang said, smiling. "It is known of Joseph's fondness for young women and theirs for him. It is foolish of me to even suggest it. I appeal to you again, Adam. Fang Zhen has sent this money – in silver coins…" Lee Chang rose and pulled a pouch from his pocket, "to compensate you for your trouble. If it is not enough, he will pay more." He held out the pouch.

"Put the money away, Please."

He sat back down. "I did not mean to insult a friend. Compensation for time spent ensuring the safety of the women as they travel is only expected. If there is another way that we can entreat you to accept the request, you need only say. I shall carry it back with me to Fang Zhen and the rest of the Tong members. The matter is of such necessity that no price is too high."

I sat and considered what to say. My father sat back with his port. He and I both knew that a denied request by Fang Zhen who was arrogant, wealthy, and looked down his nose at whites, might be the cause of trouble. Lately, there had been issues with young Chinese youths who looked derisively upon their elders as kow-towing to the white man, striking out against storekeepers and nearby homesteaders.

Initially, it had been mere vandalism – paint tossed on storefronts, cows released from barns. But then it advanced to bricks thrown through windows, hay bales set on fire and chickens with wrung necks. People reported seeing Chinese boys running from the scenes and laughing. Roy Coffee was at wits' end. There was talk of burning down Chinatown, shooting _Chinee_ boys on sight and then to shooting any Chinese on sight. In order to try and find a more peaceful solution, my father and I took Roy to meet the Tong. It was arranged by Hop Sing and the issue was tactfully resolved with no admitted guilt from anyone. I felt we owed the Chinese community a favor.

"Lee Chang," I said, "if I am to do this thing you request, I must know the truth. Who is this Wu – what is her name?"

"Wu Lien. Her name, Lien, means lotus. Her name is fitting from what I have heard. You see, Adam and my friend, Ben, the lotus means perfection and beauty. A woman named such must have both qualities in her heart and mind as well as body."

"She's not actually Fang Zhen's niece is she, Lee Chang, any more than the other women are?"

Lee Chang dropped his eyes. "I am ashamed to have lied to you about such things, my friends." He looked up and met my eye. "No, she is not. Wu Lien is more important than a mere niece."


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

We waited. I knew Lee Chang had been holding back, but I also knew from time spent with my father in Chang's company, that Lee Chang tried to smooth over matters whenever there was a possibility of any misunderstanding; that was probably why he had been sent, to walk the tightrope between the two cultures. Chinese customs often clashed with western laws. Sheriff Coffee often looked the other way when it came to "minor offenses" such as the illegal Fan Tan games in Chinatown, but if a complaint was filed by one of the legal gambling parlors in Virginia City, he had to look into it despite being stonewalled whenever he visited Chinatown to investigate. It was a constant source of frustration to him.

"Chinese business not white man's business," Hop Sing had once said when my father asked him about an ongoing murder investigation. Roy had come by the house, assuming that if Hop Sing knew anything, he would most certainly reveal it in the privacy of the Ponderosa. He was wrong.

A Chinese man had been slaughtered, his head barely attached to his body, the cut being so deep as to sever the spinal column, and dumped into a sewage ditch running behind some seedy brothels at the edge of town. When Roy tried to find out about the man, his name and who may have possibly killed him, no one in Chinatown would talk. "Chinese decide own justice. Murderers judged by Tong. Punishment carried out," Hop Sing had said. Then he had turned and left the room.

I told both Roy and my father that the partially decapitated man may not have been a "murder" victim but a victim of justice; beheading was a common punishment in China but here, there was no professional executioner; this may be a botched beheading. Roy had shaken his head and made s sound of disapproval talking about barbarian customs.

"Yeah, and we all know how civilized hanging is," I said. My father's brows furrowed in disapproval, and Roy just shot me a look.

So, my father and I waited to hear what Lee Chang had to say and I wondered ahead of time how much he would reveal.

"Fang Zhen was wealthy man in China – very wealthy," Lee Chang began. "He owned much land and many people paid to farm a small section. Fang Zhen was rich but also benevolent. The goddess, Kwan Yin blesses those who are merciful and generous. Many of our people here all come from same part of China and owe Fang Zhen for his assistance; he paid travel to America for many of our people. Finally, he came Nevada himself and bring favorite wife."

" _Favorite_ wife?" I wanted clarification although I knew what the term implied – that there were other wives.

"Adam," my father said shifting in his chair. "Perhaps we should just let Lee Chang talk without interruption."

"No, my friend," Lee Chang said with a sad smile. "I am asking a favor of your son and he deserves to understand the enormity of the task and the trust I … we have in him. I will answer any question most willingly." Then he turned to me.

"In China, a wealthy man may have many wives or many…" He looked puzzled, as if he again was searching for a word.

"Concubines?" I suggested. Lee Chang looked puzzled still, his head cocked at an angle like a bird's. "Paramours? Kept women? Mistresses?"

"Yes. Any of those terms would fit. In China, even in his younger age, before his great wealth, Fang Zhen enjoy the company of women. Many families present their daughters to him for marriage or as a consort. A great variety of women – some as lovely and delicate as a plum blossom, some broad-nosed, wide-hipped and as strong as jade. Fang Zhen have many children with these women. Over time, he was presented with more and more women – as gifts for favors. He could mount a different woman every night.

"But despite the variety of his … consorts, there was a child, a beautiful child of a neighboring village of which much was heard. She was spoken of far and wide and many men traveled to see her." Lee Chang paused and he took on a far-way look.

My father couldn't resist asking, as he was caught up in the story, "Did you see her, Lee Chang?"

"Yes, I did. I was looking for a possible wife for my eldest son, Huan who, may he rest with our ancestors, died before I left for America. As you know, Jimmy was born here in American to my…" He paused and dipped his head. "I also took a wife here. A man becomes lonely.

But to continue, I traveled to see the infant girl at one year, and she was truly blessed by the gods. Beauty is a gift of heaven, much valued since it cannot be bought but can only be granted. And she was pure and smiled at all who looked at her and offered her small, childish gifts. She was like her name, a lotus blossom of perfection and I myself fell under her spell, foolish as I am, wishing I were a younger man or she, an older child ready to be taken. When I returned home with the child's image still in my eyes, I am ashamed to say that I was repelled by my own wife and her garlic smell and rough hands. I longed to own beauty.

"You see, it is believed a woman's beauty reflects virtue and talent…" Lee Chang cleared his throat. "Many talents, and if the child is trained and taught well in the arts including the art of physical love, she can be the consort of the emperor himself. Fang Zhen desired that once the female child reach 10 years, she would be his wife. He gave much money to her family to secure the promise. The child was to be sent here once she reached her 10th birthday, but in China, there was a revolution, the Taiping Rebellion, but, and may the Gods of our people preserve the emperor, it was not successful. But much discord still remains. The revolution prevented Wu Lien's travel.

"In the intervening years, the parents of Wu Lien who grew more beautiful by the day, have declined many other offers of marriage and the accompanying gifts and money. In gratitude, Fang Zhen has sent them much money to assure his claim and to preserve Wu Lien's virtue. But it is believed among those with much experience, that good behavior is a virtue for a man – bad behavior is the virtue of a woman. That is also another reason why a man of our culture is not to be sent to accompany the new consort.

"So, now, at last, Wu Lien is arriving to join Fang Zhen's other wives and to assume a most honored position in his household. The ship, the Majestic, will be in harbor soon and Wu Lien and her maid will debark in a strange land. Fang Zhen is unable to go. He cannot leave his many businesses in the hands of his three sons as he does not have faith in their business sense. The eldest son lies and smokes opium all day – that is his only love - and the other two gamble both day and night. So, tonight, Fang Zhen presented the issue to the Tong. It is feared that a Chinese man, if sent to fetch Wu Lien, even one of the Zhen sons, he will fall under her spell of beauty and steal her away, never wanting to leave her side. That is why we are asking you, Adam Cartwright, if you would escort her and her maid. A man such as yourself would not succumb to her charms; she looks nothing like a woman of your kind."

Lee Chang waited. My father cleared his throat. I truly think he feared I would challenge Lee Chang on his perception of inherent bias on my part. But I didn't. Instead I decided I would challenge the idea of a young bride for an old man such as Fang Zhen.

"So, Fang Zhen believes that a young, lovely woman would be happy with an old husband?"

Lee Chang shrugged. "It is believed wisdom walks hand in hand with age but there is a saying – a young woman with an old man is really someone else's woman. Often, unfortunately, an old man is foolish when it comes to beauty; all men want to possess it and although he be old, Fang Zhen is still a man as any other man."

The three of us sat in silence. I crouched over, not wanting to look either my father or Lee Chang in the eye; my instinct was to say 'Hell, no. I want nothing to do with bringing a lamb to the slaughter'. I felt that's what I would be doing. To present Fang Zhen with another "niece' for him to exultantly deflower was more than my sensibilities would allow. And yet I hesitated. Just because I didn't understand why a man would be allowed to enjoy himself with a bevy of women didn't necessarily make it wrong. I tried very hard not to be judgmental and to remain open-minded about the changes occurring in the world. But this wasn't a change. This was an outdated way of life and while it may be perfectly acceptable in China, we weren't in China.

"I don't know, Lee Chang. I think it's better that one of Fang Zhen's friends, perhaps a Tong member go on this … mission."

Lee Chang sighed. "I wish you would reconsider, Adam. You are well-respected among our people, second only to the esteem in which your father is held. And it is an arduous journey for an older man to take. Fang Zhen took only little convincing to accept you as the escort, your reputation is so renowned."

"Are you attempting to flatter me?"

"Oh, no!' Lee Chang looked truly embarrassed. "I only speak the truth. I know that flattery looks like friendship just as a wolf looks like a dog, but what I say is sincere."

"Let me think about it. Perhaps," I said, "my father can spare Hoss and me for a few weeks and we can do Fang Zhen this favor."

"No," Lee Chang said. "It is asked only that you go. It is hoped that a man driving a small wagon will not attract attention. Two men, well, a highwayman might think your cargo carries much value." Lee Chang dropped his head. "Please, Adam. I humbly ask that you do this favor. It would help…sway a general opinion among the Tong … I had hoped to couch this in kinder language, but there is a change among the members. The Tong is starting to look on the whites as our enemies who conspire ways to keep us from wealth. You must understand that if I return and say that even the Cartwrights will not help…well, it may confirm some false beliefs." He rose from the chair, his face stiff.

"I am sorry to have taken so much of your evening." Lee Chang bowed his head. "Thank you for listening to a foolish man. I also thank you for your friendship. I wish you a good night."

Lee Chang moved toward the door, my father accompanying him. I don't know why I felt so guilty all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because parts of Chinatown had been set ablaze many times over the past year by hooded Virginia City citizens who wanted to run out the Chinese and clean up what they called "Yellow Town." Many a Chinese had been assaulted simply for walking down the street and daring to look into the face of a white woman. I suppose my conscience – my conscience for being a _bok gwai_ – a 'white ghost', and one of the privileged, overcame my reluctance.

"Lee Chang, who am I to refuse a friend? If it will engender good will between the people of Virginia City and the people of Chinatown, I'll escort the women."

He turned, his face beaming as he broke into a smile. He reached for my hand, his concession to another culture. I took his hand and shook it.

"Many thanks, Adam. Many thanks. And may you sleep well tonight as I will. Your generosity and kindness will be conveyed to those who matter." Then he reached into a pocket of his tunic and pulled out a paper. He unfolded it and handed it to me. There was another paper folded along with it. The larger paper was written in English with fine, elegant brush strokes.

I glanced over it. It held instructions for claiming the horses and wagon from a livery stable and the receipt for pre-payment. There was also the date the ship was to dock.

"Well, this ought to do it," I said, refolding the papers.

"One more paper," Lee Chang said. He handed me an elegant envelope made of crisp white paper. On the reverse side of the paper, I could see Chinese lettering and a name was written on the outside in flowing Chinese lettering. The letter itself was the envelope and it was sealed with wax and stamped with a Chinese chop.

"That is a letter for Wu Lien. It is from her benefactor, Fang Zhen. It welcomes her to this country and lets her know of his anticipation of her arrival into his home. If you will be so kind as to deliver it into her hands?"

"Of course," I said smiling. But my smile was forced and I already regretted my decision.

Le Chang pulled out the money pouch. "Are you certain that you won't take this? There may be supplies the women will need for food or clothing. You are doing this out of friendship but friendship does not require you to empty your pockets of silver. Please, Adam, take this pouch. Buy what is necessary and give the remaining coin to Wu Lien – as a small gift from Fang Zhen. Please."

I sighed, looking at my father who raised his brows as if encouraging me.

"All right," I agreed. "I'll take the money and give Lotus the rest." My casual use of the woman's name seemed to disconcert Lee Chang so I quickly corrected myself. "I mean Miss Wu."

"I thank you, Adam, not just for myself but for all elders of the Tong." He bowed again and I found myself foolishly responding in kind; my bowing always felt awkward.

When my father came back in after seeing off Lee Chang, I knew by his scowl he was upset. I handed him a glass of whiskey I had poured along with one for myself.

"I know, Pa, I know. I never should have agreed to go alone. Or to go at all."

He took the small glass from me and downed half of it. Then he shook his head. "I don't know, Adam. It's this whole thing about more than one wife and … I just. But lately there's been so much trouble that I suppose it might have been misinterpreted if you refused. I just don't know, Adam."

I downed the rest of my whiskey and placed my glass on the table. "I don't either, Pa. I think maybe I'm being a goddamn fool to do this."

"Well," my father said, straightening up and raising his glass to me, "it is said that he who knows he is a fool, is not a big fool."

"But still a fool," I said. "Well," I looked at the paper again, "at least I don't have to leave here until Monday and won't miss Easter dinner."

"Then I suggest you go to bed," my father said. "Go on up, Adam, I'll sit up a while more, finish my whiskey, enjoy another smoke. In case Joe comes home, I don't want him to wake up the whole house banging on the front door."

So, I left my father downstairs but I was bothered once I tried to sleep. The whole matter troubled me, women treated as possessions, sold to the highest bidder. And I was playing my part in this farce that passed for love. Fang Zhen just lusted after young flesh and the girl was the pawn used by her parents for riches and the accompanying prestige. But the, beauty has always used as barter, used by women to get what they want and for all I knew, this Wu Lien was a willing participant. Who the hell was I to judge? No one, a _bok gwai_. A white ghost.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Easter had been early that year. Since the Majestic was docking April 12, I had almost two weeks to get to San Francisco, more than enough time. It was a good thing that only two days passed between Lee Chang making the request and my leaving on my mission of "mercy". Otherwise, I might have reneged. It wasn't that I hadn't considered doing so, but then I'd think of my father's standing among the Chinese community, him being perhaps the only link between the two races, and also, when I thought of maybe Hoss and Joe escorting the two unknown women, I knew I didn't want to put either my brothers or the women in that position; if something happened, why Hop Sing might even be pressured to quit us and work in his Uncle Chou's laundry. Hoss would be heart-broken!

I guess I shouldn't treat the matter lightly as it was serious. First it was the Irish who were marginalized and then the Chinese moved in. Relations between the Chinese and the Irish, who lost many jobs to the Chinese laborers who worked for less, were volatile.

Granted, the Irish were slandered as being lazy drunks and a saying made the rounds, always clarified afterwards that it was only a joke, that every Irishman should kill a Chinaman and be hanged for it. It always got a big laugh. But to the Chinese, there was no distinction between an Irishman and any other hostile citizen of Virginia City.

I'm not pompous enough to think I held the tenuous racial peace in my hands but I did know that I should do whatever I could to maintain it. And if I hadn't, my father would have convinced me otherwise.

It was a cold morning as I prepared to leave – my breath frosting in the air. The sun hadn't yet risen and I hoped to put a good ten miles behind me before it did.

"Here, Adam," my father said, handing me the packets of food Hop Sing had prepared the night before. He had thanked me twice for taking on the favor. I tried to behave as if it was nothing and said so, but Hop Sing had become serious and told me, _Mistah Adam not know importance. Cannot tell since bigger than words. Tonight, I light incense for household gods to watch over Mistah Adam and those in his care._ I held no truck with Hop Sing's beliefs but somehow, it made me feel oddly comforted.

It was so early when I left the Ponderosa that Hop Sing wasn't even awake. He had grinned widely Sunday night when he told me he had packed left-over ham, a fresh loaf of sour dough, wedges of cheese and two cans of peaches.

Hoss had protested, pouted, stating he had planned on plenty of ham sandwiches and canned peaches with cream. "And now, I don't get to pour that sugar syrup over biscuits neither. And, dang, Adam, you just dump it out! What a damnable waste, just pourin' it on the ground for them ants!"

"Now, Adam," my Pa said in the crisp morning air, "if you run into any trouble, wire and I'll send Hoss and Joe. And don't think of being a knight in shining armor or anything." He shook his forefinger at me; it was his favorite weapon.

"Pa, I'm not Joe and I sure as hell am not Hoss. I don't believe that women are delicate flowers and I'm not going to sacrifice myself just so Fang Zhen can have a sweet piece in his bed. I should never have agreed but it's too late for backing out now."

"Well, I'm telling you to take care anyway."

I checked the cinch again and then my father stepped back while I mounted.

"Now wire me once you get to San Francisco, understand?"

"I understand, Pa. Now don't worry. You're getting to be like an old woman." But I knew how worried he was. He had mentioned twice Sunday for me to be extra careful and I had assured him I would be. But he had that look in his eyes when I reassured him, the same look he had now, as if he wanted to hug me, as if I was leaving for school back east again. "Besides, I've been to San Francisco hundreds of times. This is just one more. Now I'll see you in about three weeks, maybe a little longer."

So, I left my worried father standing in the dark of our yard and rode off for San Francisco. The trip was without incident, the ground still as hard as ever, the weather beautiful, and it seemed as if the ancient Chinese gods Hop Sing prayed to, smiled on me and my venture. I set up a snare and in the morning had a rabbit. He made a delicious breakfast and skinning him brought back memories of helping my father with the snares for coyotes and foxes and the traplines for beavers. Learning how to remove an animal's skin in one piece led to a feeling of competency that also made me feel confident and learn more about making a living on the land and surviving in the wilderness if necessary. I still hoped one day to teach a son of my own such things but was less confident with each year that passed that I would have any children at all.

I had time to stay overnight in Sacramento City and after a shower and dinner, I visited my favorite brothel this side of Lake Tahoe. Mamie, a tall, buxom blonde whom I always asked for, welcomed me with open arms — and legs. And as I lay back on the pillows and smoked a cigar while listening to Mamie ramble on about something – I don't really know, just nodded when it seemed appropriate – I considered men and women and how strong the drive was that made men search out accommodating females. And what about the act itself? I wondered if other men lived in their heads as I did, if during the act they observed their thoughts and if it affected their pleasure. I'd much rather just give myself up to the physical sensations, to merely rut, but my thoughts were always interfering with my total enjoyment; I could never revel in the sensations like a hog in the muck – but I so wanted to.

That was why I envied Hoss. He threw himself completely into all experiences – the taste of food, the warmth of the sun on a cold day, the humor of a good joke, the thrill of a fist fight, and most of all, the pleasures of a willing woman. Hoss never found himself analyzing what was happening, what he should say or do, how he felt – he just acted. I always wished I could be like that.

Once my time was up, Mamie wanted me to stay longer, to buy another bottle of champagne, insisting she would make it worth the money but I was finished with my business and now I wanted to be away from her – bad enough I'd have to wash again. Once I'm satisfied, I don't want to be reminded of that side of myself, of my occasional 'nostalgie de la boue' – a longing for the mud, as the French say. In that case, I guess I am akin to that hog wallowing in the muck and mud.

"C'mon, Adam Usually you're good for more than one throw."

I was trying to button up my shirt and she was playing with them, unbuttoning them. It annoyed me and I roughly pushed her hand away. Mamie stepped back, offended, as if a whore had a right to be offended when her customer wants to leave. But I don't like being rough or unkind, so I pulled an extra few coins from my pocket and holding her right wrist, slapped them in her palm. She smiled and her fingers snapped shut over them and I finished dressing, buckling on my gun belt.

"I have an early day tomorrow, Mamie. I need to get a good night's sleep." I shrugged on my trail coat.

"You stoppin' by on your way back?" Mamie asked as she slipped the coins into her wrap's pocket. She would have to hide the extra money from the madam.

"No," I answered, adjusting my Stetson. "I won't have time. Take care, Mamie."

Once I was outside in the cool air, I could hear the cacophonous piano music floating out of each and every saloon on that side of town. I was tempted to stop in one and have a few drinks and play a little poker even though I know how foolish it is to gamble in a strange town. You don't know who's a hustler and have no friends to back you up if you're accused of cheating. I was seriously considering it anyway when I suddenly realized I was looking for a reason not to be by myself and my thoughts. In playing cards, I focused on that alone – no intrusions. And my gut feeling was that I had allowed myself to be used by the Tong, specifically Fang Zhen and it made me angry with myself. Oh, Lee Chang had flashed enough reasons in front of my face but I had no interest at stake. Maybe I _had_ taken the mission of delivering the "Lotus" just for vanity's sake. And my Pa's little aphorism came back to me, but even with being aware of myself, I was still a big fool.

My compromise was to buy a bottle of whiskey and hopefully, drink myself to sleep. But once I returned to my hotel room, I lay propped-up against my headboard and stared at the bottle. Then I pulled out the cork, took a swig and felt that familiar warmth. It relaxed me a bit and so I took another one, closed my eyes, and by feel alone, stuck the cork back in. Another man in my place might get drunk but not I. Actually, as hard as you might find it to believe, I've never been drunk. Not that I didn't have the chance – every man has the chance many times over – but I didn't like to lose control, to behave like the drunks I had seen, including my brother, Hoss. He would always piss the bed in his sleep if he'd had too much. As for Joseph, he just became silly and then vomited.

No, I followed the ancient Greek belief, "Nothing in excess." Even Thomas Aquinas believed that moral virtue observes the mean – right down the middle as too much pleasure causes pain. But sometimes I wondered if the experience of exquisite pleasure would be worth the repercussive pain. Maybe it would be, but not that night. So, with thought of obliging women, I eventually fell asleep. And surprisingly, slept well.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

I reached San Francisco only a few hours before the Majestic docked. Didn't have time to get a , shave, or have my dirty clothes laundered. I'd just have to wear my last clean shirt for the trip back. Besides, why should I care what the two women thought of me? And I had been filthier than this at times and far more unshaven. As far as they knew, I was just some uncouth cowboy hired as a driver and body guard, and after spending time on a ship with unwashed coolies and vulgar sailors, why would they expect any different from me?

I had no trouble securing the horses and wagon; I just presented the receipt and the man at the livery was amenable.

"There it is," he said, motioning with a swing of his arm. The wagon was close to the type gypsies use called a "Vardo" wagon, and similar to what traveling merchants employed except it had two windows – one on each side. It served almost as a rolling house. It protected the passengers from the sun and rain but I felt it should have a gaudy sign in big lettering on the side or be painted in reds and golds. But it was a plain-looking wagon.

"I loaded it with what I was told. There's a sack of rice, salt, two barrels of water, one strapped on each side. There are the two mattress rolls and blankets and the short table and the mats. I asked that Chinaman why he needed all that stuff but he wasn't the talkative type. Just kinda ignored me but he paid me enough to make up for any hurt feelings I may've had." The man grinned.

"Strange, isn't it," I said, "how money can soothe any hurt." He just laughed but it was true. Many a time my father resolved issues with an injured miner or ranch hand by throwing money at it. When I was a boy, I thought it was ignoring the fact a man had been injured or, as happened on occasion, killed. But the person harmed always came around with their hand out and I realized that money was what they wanted more than anything else. Seems a man's life does have a price.

But money was helpful in other ways too. And as I became older, and I like to think wiser, I found that being a Cartwright – being a wealthy Cartwright – could buy all the attention from just about every barmaid in Virginia City. Sometimes, I'm ashamed to confess, I had exploited it. But since everyone received what they wanted, I guess it did no harm.

So, tying my horse onto the back, I drove the wagon to town and bought canned beans, coffee, sugar, flour, lard, a tin of crackers and dried beef paying with Fang Zhen's money. Then I bought myself a fresh bottle of whiskey. Any initial reluctance in using Fang's money had been overcome by my annoyance. But I was most annoyed at myself for accepting this errand. Once I loaded the goods, I drove to the docks. I hesitated leaving the wagon alone as seedy people were always about looking for someone to pick-pocket or a drunk to roll, but I needed to walk the distance to the ship to wait for the Lotus and her maid to come down the gangway. I hoped they would be easy to spot. The ship had come from China so I anticipated a stream of Chinese making their way down.

I took a few more slugs of my whiskey and then sauntered down – in a black mood. I waited as the Majestic was already in dock, the moorings almost completed. When the ship had been made secure, the gangplank lowered and people hurried off, all of them, from what I could tell, male Chinese laborers, most without any bundles of possessions. They headed to where a man stood on the seat of a buckboard, calling out in Chinese. There were other buckboards as well, the drivers sitting hunched-over, waiting for their load of human cargo. I could tell the man yelling was from the railroad company, noticed its name mentioned in his sing-song speech. They had come to gather those men who had traveled from their homeland for jobs.

Eventually, no one else debarked and I was about to search out the captain when two women, Chinese by dress came to the opening. One was squat, dressed in cotton Chinese pajamas similar to Hop Sing's, a soiled padded jacket for warmth, and had short, cropped gray hair. She carried two large sacks. The other woman was small and slim and wore some type of headgear that surrounded her in a veil; it put me in mind of a beekeeper. She wore swaths of embroidered silk wraps and minced down the gangway. It was obvious she had bound feet as she seemed to waver on occasion, threatening to lose her balance.

The gray-haired woman was shouting out in broken English to a sailor who had a trunk on his shoulders. Another one followed him, also carrying a trunk.

"You carry goddamn trunk faster!" she shouted to the men, raising a fist. "I kick arse you drop!"

I thought one of the men was going to toss his burden in the water and then shove her in as well, but instead he only glowered. I wouldn't believe a sailor would accept being berated, but they were probably ordered to help the two women. Once they reached the boards of the wharf, both men dropped their trunks on their ends by kneeling and letting them slide off.

"You carry more!" she shouted. "You carry!" She jabbed one finger at the trunk and then at them.

I was closer by then and approached the group. The other, smaller woman was almost to the wharf, still awkwardly walking with small, careful steps.

"You carry your own goddamn trunk the rest of the way yourself, ya squallin' bitch!"

"You carry goddamn trunk" she continued to yell, waving one arm in the air.

The sailor moved threateningly toward her and I stepped up. "Here," I said. "Thanks for your help." I handed him a silver piece and gave the other sailor one as well. After all, it was Fang Zhen's money, not mine. "I'll take it from here."

He whistled between his teeth in appreciation of the silver dollar. "Thanks, mister. You want my advice? Kick that Chink loudmouth off the wharf. She's been like this the whole stinkin' trip, demandin' this, demandin' that, and iffen the cap'n wouldn't have minded, I'da fed 'er to the sharks long afore this."

"I think that's good advice, but unfortunately, I can't follow it."

"It's your ears she'll be annoyin'," he said, flipping the coin in his hand. The two sailors headed off to the waterfront section of the city. They would more than likely have a better time getting soused and sleeping with some disease-ridden whore than I was going to have with the two women.

"Who you?" the gray-haired woman loudly asked me. "You take trunks! You carry goddamn trunks."

I took a deep breath. "I'm Adam Cartwright. Fang Zhen sent me. These are my instructions," I said, pulling out the paper. The other woman had finally met up with us. I tried to see through the multi-layered gauze of her veil but couldn't. Even the sea breeze, despite moving the veil, didn't blow it up from her face. I held out the welcome letter from Fang Zhen to his newly-arrived 'niece'. "And this is for you, Miss. You are Wu Lien, correct?"

She nodded. I didn't know if she understood me or only recognized her name. But she took the letter from me and examined the seal. But she didn't yet read it, just tucked it up a sleeve.

"I have the wagon. If you'll follow me…" I dropped to one knee and hoisted a trunk onto my back. I headed for the wagon. I considered that getting both trunks to the wagon would be problematic but if anyone tried to steal the trunk still on the wharf, well, they couldn't run very fast with it.

I walked on and noticed the women weren't following. I could hear them speaking, one loud voice, the other soft – like a spring breeze flowing past your ears.

I dropped the trunk by the wagon and turned to see that I had been wrong - the women were walking to the wagon but were slow due to the small steps Wu Lien took. And she constantly struggled to maintain her balance on the uneven ground which was surfaced with tossed shells of dead oysters. It made the whole area stink.

I was tired, impatient, so I stalked back to the women and swept up Wu Lien in my arms. She gave a sound of surprise, clutching me, and the other woman shouted, "What you do, you goddamn? What you do?" But I didn't reply, just easily carried Wu Lien who was the size of a child. But then all the Chinese women I had seen were small. The men too, but I had never been this close, never held a woman like Wu Lien in my arms. She smelled like an exotic flower and I felt my pulse step up. And when I placed her on the ground, I saw that she wore impossibly small slippers. Her feet were smaller than my hand.

And then the other woman who had strode beside me, shouting and cursing the whole time, comforted Wu Lien, and for the first time, she spoke in hushed tones as if I could possibly understand their conversation. But I was through with them and fetched the other trunk, finally settling everything – and the two of them – inside the wagon. After climbing onto the seat, I snapped the reins and we were finally on our way. I just hoped it would be without incident. It wouldn't.

~ 0 ~

I should have bought myself a whole crate of whiskey. The maid was Ju. It seemed she had only one level of speaking and that was loud. And everything was "goddamn." I believe she picked it up on the ship from the sailors, but I wondered why she hadn't pick up any other salty language. It seemed she had learned English – or so she said when I asked- while working for an English dignitary as a young woman. When the Englishman and his family left China during the revolution, she found board and keep with the Wu family, helping to raise their only daughter.

"In China, daughter worthless. Only value to honorable parents be xīn niáng jià gé."

"What is xin…?" I thought I already knew and found I did.

"What man pay to marry daughter. Man have most money, most likely buy daughter."

"Lovely tradition," I said sarcastically but I knew that it was the just the power of money. And Fang Zhen had the most of any Chinese man in the area.

When it came time for the first meal of our journey, Ju had nothing good to say – in Chinese or English.

In one trunk were linens, dishes and cooking utensils – pans, knives and spatulas of some type and Ju wanted to cook chicken for dinner. I told her that the food in the wagon was all there was. She spat on the ground and sneered at me.

"Trash! Goddamn trash! Not fit for pig! You find food! You get cabbage, onion, garlic, noodles! Fish sauce! Need cook goddamn dinner! You get! Now!" She frowned at me, her fists on her wide hips, a cleaver clenched in one hand like a weapon. She looked like a bulldog.

I faced her down. "There's no place to find cabbage or anything else you want. But I tell you what…I'll go see if maybe I can get a rabbit or a squirrel. Think you can cook one of those?" I waited, my hands on my hips.

"I not know goddamn squirrel. You get goddamn rabbit!"

"Gladly. Anything to get away." I pulled my rifle from its scabbard. My saddle was on the ground alongside my bedroll, my bottle of whiskey waiting beside it. The wagon had come already equipped with thin rolled mattresses, blankets and a small table and chairs for the women. Two lanterns were also inside and I told Ju to light a lantern before dark as I didn't know how long it would take to find a "goddamn rabbit" and it may be dark when I returned.

As I walked away, I looked back and the Lotus, who hadn't yet come out of the wagon. She sat, her legs tucked under her, in the open doorway, the veil still covering her face, dropping to her shoulders. She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement and I tipped my hat. Can't say I wasn't curious. And I secretly hoped that under that veil, Wu Lien was as ugly as a pig. Would serve Fang Zhen right.

I came back to camp empty-handed except for some wild onion, dandelions, and cattails. About a quarter mile away was a small pool that was part of a stream coming down the side of a nearby mountain. The water swirled around inside the pool and then moved on but it had clumps of dandelions about it. Some wild onions grew not too far away and I pulled a few cattails as the root was tasty.

When I walked into the clearing, I could see a lantern hanging from a tree, the fire was going and a pot was hanging over it. I smelled rice.

"What you goddamn got?" Ju asked.

"I have some greens you can cook and eat – some wild onion, root bulbs and even these," I said showing her the cattail brush, "can be eaten. I'll show you." And before she could speak, I said, "And if you say 'goddamn' one more time, I'll gag you the rest of the trip. Do you understand?"

I loomed over her and Ju squinted her eyes, her jaw jutting out as she faced me. Then she smiled and in a voice so smooth and unctuous that she could have oiled the wagon wheels, she replied, "Of course. I not say word again. It make sailors jump, do what I say. But won't say to you again. Ju promise." She beamed which only made me more suspicious. I wondered if there was a Chinese saying about catching more flies with honey than vinegar. Nevertheless, I knew not to take her sudden about-face as sincere.

"I'll show you what parts are to be used but they need washing first, especially the ends of these." I held out the cattails.

"Ju thanks Mistah Adam Cartwright for help," she said, smiling and bowing.

And then I trusted her even less.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

I ate my dinner alone. It was actually tasty - boiled rice with finely-chopped wild onion, fried dandelion greens and slices of cattail root on top. I had shown Wu how to eat the cattail brush, similar to the manner of eating corn on the cob, but she tasted it and spat it out.

"For pigs! You try poison Ju!" She continued to spit out any if the remaining plant.

"Actually, pigs like them. They taste a little like corn." I took a bite.

Ju muttered under her breath just loud enough for me to hear. "Pah! Pigs like. Him like. Him smell like pig, eat like pig."

I understood the insult. I knew that it had been two days since I'd bathed and I could smell the sharp tang of my own sweat. But I was only the bodyguard, so to speak, and it gave me some perverse pleasure to know Ju found me unpleasant.

The women ate their dinner inside the wagon. After I ate and cleaned up after myself, I made coffee, poured some whiskey in the tin cup, and sat back against my saddle to enjoy the night. I pulled the collar of my trail coat higher—the front of my hat, lower. It was going to be chilly and I wondered if there would be a late dusting of snow. It often happened.

Ju came out of the wagon, put a pot of water on the fire and once it was hot enough, poured it in a large, dented, tin basin. She washed the utensils and pans she had used, including two sets of chopsticks that may have been of ivory. The steam rose from the hot water. When she finished, she picked up the basin and looking at me as if she wanted to toss the water my way, she smiled and bowed her head. Then, with great show, tossed the water to the side. Then she went into the wagon. A few minutes later, she and Wu Lien, still veiled but only with a piece of thin gauze draped over her head instead of the usual elaborate headgear, walked out into the stand of trees. Wu Lien held on to Ju's arm as she walked, her hips moving in a swaying motion, drawing my attention. I knew they were taking care of "matters of the body" as they had twice earlier, Ju demanding I stop the 'goddamn' wagon – for which she quickly apologized. IT seemed to take them excessively long but I waited, impatiently, for them to return.

While they were gone, I went and looked inside the wagon for my coffee, beans and dried beef; I couldn't count on Ju feeding me every time – or on what she might feed me. Granted, at the moment she needed me, they both did, but that didn't preclude her from tainting my food or slipping in something to give me the trots. If I had to pull-up the wagon to crouch in the bushes every few minutes, I imagine it'd give her quite the chuckle.

Everything was neat and tidy inside the wagon, softly scented like Wu Lien when I had held her, and I easily found my coffee and jerky and two cans of beans to slip into my saddlebags. One thing about the two women – they were clean. So, satisfied, I made up my bedroll and sat with a rifle, hoping that I wouldn't hear a yell for help; it might prove embarrassing at least and danger at most. And right before I was going to go look for them, embarrassing or not, the two women came back and Wu Lien's odd, mincing walk both intrigued and annoyed me.

I knew that in China, it was seen as a symbol of prestige and privilege to have bound feet. Having such, meant a woman was not required to work, that she had servants to fetch for her. And it was a sign of beauty. I could understand that in a woman, small feet would be preferred by any man over large, splayed feet but the small size of Wu Lien's slippers were almost freakish, as if they belonged in a carnival side-show. But I did realize that I had no right to be judgmental of another culture's beliefs and customs. And, I had to admit, there was something exciting and erotic about the fact that a woman with such small feet couldn't get very far and would be at a man's mercy. And if she languorously reclined on a couch all day, unable to move about, well, she would always be ready for the man who owned her. I could see the appeal.

The night passed quickly – I was exhausted and probably would have slept longer except that Ju woke me by calling my name. She was standing over me, her hands on her hips.

I jerked awake. "Is something wrong?' I sat up and ran a hand over my face in an effort to rid myself of drowsiness.

"You wake now! Help Ju with bath!"

"Excuse me?" I had a horrible image of scrubbing Ju's back as she sat in a tub of hot water.

"Wu Lien need wash. Ju need wash. You make bath and fill hot water!'

I stood up. The sun was beginning to warm the air but it was still cool. "There is no bath. Just use that wash tub and wash….whatever needs cleaning. And heat the water yourself. I have to water the horses."

"No," she yelled, stepping in front of me. "You do! You help!" Then she changed her tactic. Ju smiled and coyly tilting her head, she said, "Mistah Adam Cartwright help Ju with bath for Wu Lien. Take care of matters. Her need clean self all over – sit in water and wash. You help poor Ju with such things."

"No." Ju started to protest but I put up my hand and her jaw practically snapped shut. "One, we don't have the time for any leisurely baths or trust me, I'd take one myself. Two, there's no tub and if you're thinking of using one of the water barrels, forget it; we need the water for drinking more. Now, if you two want to wash, after I come back with the horses, I'll show you the pool of water and you can wash there but it's cold. It's snow melt." I bent down and swept up my hat. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Ju went back to the wagon, glowering at me and I put on my coffee, leaving it on the stirred-up flames. I led the horses to the water and let the three animals fill themselves and then relieve themselves. I did the same. When I returned to camp, my coffee pot was laying on the dirt, half the coffee having poured out, and Ju was using the fire to make tea and frying what looked like a cross between little cakes and biscuits.

I picked up my coffee pot and lifting the lid, saw it was over half empty.

"Why did you do this?" I asked. "I was making my morning coffee and now, it's basically still water and grounds. You didn't let it boil."

Ju looked innocently up at me. "Oh, that belong Mistah Adam Cartwright? Ju not know. Need fire for cook and make tea. Mistah Adam Cartwright want tea? Ju and Wu Lien share with you."

"No. Mister Adam Cartwright does not want tea. He wants his morning coffee."

"A thousand apologies. Ju not know customs of America. Ju woefully ignorant such matters." She smiled at me. And I said nothing more. Just started to the wagon to get the hardtack. I planned on dunking some in my coffee to soften it and making it breakfast.

But Ju was quickly on me, chattering behind me. She even grabbed my arm; Ju was surprisingly strong.

"Where you go? Where you go?"

"To get my breakfast, the hardtack inside the wagon."

"No! Wu Lien, she wash. You not go! You not see!" Ju pulled at my arm. "You eat food I fix. Come! Come this way!"

If Wu Lien was washing, she was using the drinking water. I'd have to make Ju understand that we needed that water to drink – not to wash themselves except their faces and hands and privates. But now wasn't the time as I was feeling short-tempered. So, I ate the simple cakes fried in lard. They weren't bad tasting, slightly sweet, but I still made myself a pot of coffee and drank three cups while watching Ju wash the utensils and pack up. We didn't start out until almost 10:00, according to my pocket watch. We needed to make better time and I just wanted to get home. Branding calves or pulling drag on a cattle drive was preferable to this.

About two hours out, Ju stuck her head out one of the windows and called to me. "Hey, you—Mistah Adam Cartwright! Need stop for 'matters'." That was the term Ju used to indicate they needed to relieve themselves.

I wanted to say that if they didn't drink so much tea, they wouldn't have to piss so much, but I was reminded of the pot of coffee I drank and suddenly felt the urgency myself. I pulled-up the horses and stepped on the brake.

It was a clear day. I thought of Lake Tahoe and how sometimes the sky and the water were the exact same shade of blue and it looked as if the two bodies had switched places. It was that kind of day and I felt a tug of homesickness. But I didn't have time for that. I jumped down and pulled out the folding steps of the wagon. Ju stepped out first and behind her came Wu Lien, heavily veiled as usual and swathed in multiple embroidered pieces of silk clothing. She had difficulty maneuvering the steps as usual and whether it was my impatience or anger, I wasn't sure but instead of allowing her to take the steps, I again swept her up and deposited he on the ground, not releasing her until she was steady on her small feet. She looked up at me. I could see the vague shape of her features as the veils fell against her face. Then, in a moment, she had lowered her head and she and Ju stepped into the surrounding area. I watched for a few moments, my heart thudding with the closeness of Wu Lien; her feminine lure was stronger than I had expected. And for the first time, I envied Fang Zhen. And disliked him as well. But I had my own "matters" to tend to.

I wasn't needed to help Wu Lien back into the wagon. Ju was quick to assist her and stepped between me and her charge in case I had other ideas. But I held onto Ju, stopping her from climbing in.

"What you want?" She looked angry – or worried. They looked the same on her broad, flat features.

"Why does she wear the veil? There's no one to see her but us?"

"Keep skin from sun. Her not ever been in sun. Make brown spots on face, lines, like on Ju. Only skin like milk is desired. Why you ask?"

"I just wondered. So, at night, once it's dark, she wouldn't have to wear the veil."

Ju shrugged and then stepped up into the wagon. Before I closed the door all the way, she put out her arm and stopped it.

"Mistah Adam Cartwright, Wu Lien is great beauty. Beauty is gift from the gods. Must be protected, cherished. Wu Lien never play in sun as child, never go place in day without covering all body. Her never run like other children—must have feet bound, toes broken. Her suffer much pain, much tears. Very sad life for Wu Lien but her bring much pleasure to others who look at her, who see her beauty."

I just nodded and started to close the door again but Ju wouldn't let me; she had one more thing to say. "Mistah Adam Cartwright need bath. Him stink." Then she pulled the door shut herself.

We traveled for another four hours that day until Ju stuck her head out the window again. "Mistah Adam Cartwright! You get chicken! Make soup and food for many days. You get chicken!"

"All right," I called back. "I'll get a chicken. I'll get you two chickens!" I'm sure I sounded annoyed but it was lost on Ju; she was not a woman of subtlety.

I thought of what towns might be near our path. And then I remembered that I had never wired my father. I felt silly letting my father know my whereabouts and that I was safe but then, I wasn't a father. Perhaps, if I were in his place, I would be the same way. But I had promised him and I always kept my promises – if I could. My father knew that. So if I didn't wire him I was safe, he would think it was because I was unable.

Jawbone. It had a telegrapher's office and I could probably buy a chicken or two and a slab of cured bacon. My mouth began to water in anticipation of the taste of crispy, fried bacon.

The next stop was Jawbone.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

I parked the wagon near the end of Jawbone's "Main Street". It should have been named "Only" street because Jawbone was a mining town, hence, the need for a telegraph office which was really just a small room in the back of the saloon – the only saloon. But it carried draught beer and watered-down whiskey and served as the center of the small town

Hoss and I had stopped once in Jawbone on our way home from San Francisco. The town was populated by copper miners, most without any wives or family. A few houses were scattered about the town and snot-nosed children played in the dirt yards; there was no school. The other men lived in a bunkhouse-type of building and everything was owned by the mining company - The Blue Copper Mining Company, and the miners were paid in company script. When Hoss and I slapped actual money on the bar for our beers, the barkeep was more than happy to see our solid coins and I suspect he pocketed them for himself.

I was wary about leaving the women alone in the wagon, even if it was briefly. But my hope was that after I sent the wire to my father, I could buy a few chickens from one of the houses where a few chickens scratched about in the dirt. They looked scrawny but at least Ju would have her chickens and maybe I would have some peace. And I would make it quick.

I was about to knock on the wagon door when it was thrown open by Ju.

"Why we stop? We Virginia City?"

"No, we're not in Virginia City. We're in a town called Jawbone – you should find the name fitting."

"What? What jawbone? Why we stop?"

"I have to send a wire." Ju looked puzzled. "A telegram." Then she looked suspicious. "Never mind. I'm going to buy some chickens for you to cook, and some bacon for me. All right? And if they have any onions, I'll pick some up."

"Good," she said. "You buy garlic."

"If they have any." I knew they wouldn't but I couldn't be bothered to explain. "Now, I won't be long but you and Wu Lien, stay in the wagon. This is a mining town and there're a lot of rough men so just stay inside and don't open the door for anyone but me."

"Pah! Anyone come, Ju take care of." She made a chopping, slashing motion and I was reminded of how she wielded the cleaver with great dexterity.

"Just stay inside." I pushed the door shut and turned to head for the saloon. I noticed a few men lounging on some rickety wooden chairs outside the company store, watching us. But they had only seen Ju's head out the door and any man who would be interested in her would have had to be without a woman for a very long time. And besides, the mining company provided a few whores for the miners' use.

I decided that by the time of day, it was probably close to shift change in the copper mine. Soon, the miners who came up and out into the falling evening would want beer and attention. Better I take care of my business quickly and move on. I walked through the saloon, watched the whole time since I was a stranger, tipped my hat to a few of the working girls. and then entered the telegrapher's office. No one was there. "Goddamn it," I muttered. Now I'd have to either wait or ask about him.

"You want somethin', mister?"

I jumped a bit and turned. A sloppily-dressed man of about 40 years stood behind me. His shirt was stained, the sleeves rolled up a-ways to show the grimy cuffs of his long underwear. His belly strained against his suspenders.

"You surprised me." I offered a smile but his eyes went to my gun at my side. I took a more relaxed stance, trying not to look threatening. "I'd like to send a telegram. Do you know where the telegrapher is?"

"In the boneyard. He died 'bout a month ago."

"Died?"

"Died – got killed. Same thing."

"Well the end result is the same, I guess." I became anxious; I didn't like how things sat. "I know some Morse code…"

"Morse code?"

"Yes, the dots, dashes that the telegrapher sends." The man said nothing. I wondered who he was that he felt he had the authority to accost me. But I didn't ask. "Well, I don't mind paying. It's…what? How much?" I looked at the sign. "Two bits for ten words? I'd like to send the telegram myself if there's no one else to do it.."

"Hell, iffen you know how to work that damnable thing, you can have the job."

"Well, I just want to send a telegram. Here's the money." I dug in my pocket and came up with the coins. "Who do I pay?"

He turned and shouted out into the saloon. "Sully? C'mere, Sully." The barkeep came and stood by the other man. "This here man wants to send a telegram. He wants to know who to pay."

"You'd pay me, mister, if I knew how to work that contraption. But I don't. Why don't you spend your money on a coupla shots of whiskey instead?"

"I don't have the time or I'd gladly get glassy-eyed. But I know how to send a telegram."

"If you know how to work that contraption, go ahead. But it's two bits for the first ten words. How'll I know iffen you're sending more'n that."

I considered the situation. "Because I don't have much to say."

Sully and the other man looked at each other; the heavy man shrugged his shoulders.

"All right. Go ahead but I'm gonna … supervise."

"Fine." I sat down and it took me a few seconds to familiarize myself with the machine; it had been a long time since I'd read about Morse Code and had never really used it, only used my finger to tap out messages as I looked at the chart. And I only had a vague knowledge of the mechanics but sat at the straight key and lightly rested my hand, placing my index finger on the paddle. Then I started. I hoped that the message wouldn't be too garbled at the other end and that my father would receive the telegram properly written. I felt sweat rolling down my cheeks, down my back and chest, as I worked, trying to remember the number of dots and dashes that represented each letter and the length in between. "E" was one dot – that was the only one I was sure about. And both men watched suspiciously as if I was trying to cheat them.

I finished. And stood up. "Thank you both." I started to move past them and the heavy man grabbed my arm. I sighed. I knew this was going to happen and various scenarios played out quickly in my imagination. "Is there a problem?" I asked, still keeping my hand far from my gun.

"Seems to me you sent more'n ten words. Don't it seem that way to you, Sully?"

"Did seem to go on a long time now that you mention it. I think that'll be another two bits, mister."

Slowly, I slid my right hand in my pocket and pulled out a few coins.

"I think that'll just about cover it." Sully took the coins from my hand and smiled. "Pleasure doin' business with you." He smiled widely showing tobacco-stained teeth. "C'mon," he said to the other man. "Time to have a drink before you go down in the mine."

I was relieved that nothing worse had happened - but it was short-lived. In the saloon proper, people were rushing to the doors, some stepping out onto the street. I could hear Ju shrieking. "Oh, shit," I said as I pushed past the people, the bar girls, standing at the half doors. and rushed out. I could see a group of men standing about the wagon, laughing, while it seemed two of the men were trying to drag Wu Lien out of the wagon door. Ju, was pounding on them, screaming, "You goddamns! You leave her goddamn alone. Stop, you stinkin' goddamns! I kill you!"

One man shoved Ju away, laughing as if she was merely a terrier yipping at their heels, but Ju kept going back, kept trying to pull them away from the wagon., pounding on them with her fists. And I could see Wu Lien's small, flailing feet in their embroidered slippers, as one man held her ankles, laughing, trying to pull her out. And then he did. Wu Lien lost her handhold on the doorframe and slid out of the wagon. The man quickly clutched her to him before she hit the street, by wrapping an arm about her, and lifting her off the ground.

I would have grabbed the man, swung him around and struck him, but he held Wu Lien. The sheet of her glossy black hair fell forward as she struggled, making little noise.

"Let her go," I said, standing with my hand wavering over my gun. "Put her down."

"Mistah Adam," Ju cried, coming to me, grabbing my arm. "You kill these goddamns!"

"Look," the man said who held Wu Lien, "we were just havin' a little fun with these Chink women. I mean, we were just curious if this one looked like this ugly, yammerin' one. We weren't gonna hurt no one. Just curious – that's all." He still held Wu Lien, one arm about her waist, the other across her arms, holding one of her wrists. Her hair covered most of her face.

"Okay. You've had your fun. Now let her go. Put her down." I knew there were more miners than me – about 15 more - and they could easily beat me, kill me, and then take the women. But I did have a gun and could take out a few of them first. I counted on the fact that they were just looking for a little amusement before they had to go back into the bowels of the mine. Also, there was the fact they were miners, not killers, not necessarily cruel men. They had seen their share of death and lived each day wondering if it would be their last, if this would be the day they would end up buried under tons of rock. But you never knew about a situation.

The man released Wu Lien and she dropped to the dirt, unable to get her balance. She looked up at me, pushing the hair off her face, tears on her cheeks. And time stood still. I couldn't breathe. She was glorious.

No one spoke – who could in the presence of such magnificent beauty? The men who had been watching stepped back as well. Even the man who had held Wu Lien in his arms stepped back, stunned by the profound beauty of the woman he had embraced just a moment before. But Ju ran to Wu Lien and helped her stand on her small feet. They spoke in Chinese and Ju held Wu Lien to her.

"I'm sorry, mister. She your wife or somethin'?" the man asked.

"Yeah. Something." My breathing was still shaky.

"She's 'bout the most beautiful woman I ever saw – and a goddamn Chink too. She don't look like no other Chink woman I ever saw. Hell, you're one lucky sonovabitch."

"Yeah," I replied, hoping that would be the end of it. The men began to disperse, and they mumbled among themselves. I went to help Ju with Wu Lien and as the scent of her hair, of her skin, of her whole being came to me, I was glaringly aware of how I stank, how crude I must look – unwashed, unshaven, some filthy bok gwai. Or as Hop Sing had once said, a yĕ mán – a barbarian. I was nothing more than that in Wu Lien's presence.

Wu Lien looked up at me as I tried in some way to assist her. And she gave me a small, sad smile – and then dropped her eyes.

"Lien," I whispered. "Lotus." And I understood why Fang Zhen had waited so long and paid so much to own such beauty – and I wanted her for myself.


	7. Chapter 7

**I used a term/phrase that may be an anachronism but perhaps Adam would have used it. It seemed to fit the situation anyway**

 **7**

I put as much distance as I could between us and Jawbone and it was long dark before I felt comfortable enough to stop in an opening next to the side of a rocky rise. The last thing I wanted was to be snuck-up on or be surprised in any way; I don't like surprises – good, bad – I just don't care to be surprised. I jumped down from the seat and stretched; tension had made my back tight and it ached. I was trying to decide if I should disturb the women and was fighting my urge to see Wu Lien's pale face, when Ju flung open the door of the wagon, pushed out the attached steps and bellowed to me as she descended, "Mistah Adam Cartwright no get chicken! Him say he get chicken but not get!"

I swear, I wanted to shove my bandana down Ju's throat to shut her up. "No, Mister Adam Cartwright did not get chicken. Mister Adam Cartwright was lucky not to've been handed his own ass by those miners! Now if you don't shut the hell up…" I jabbed my finger at her, knowing full well that to do so was highly insulting in Chinese culture. But I had more important things to concern me such as making certain the two women were safe and that we hadn't been followed. And Wu Lien's beauty. That had concerned me the most. But it wasn't just her beauty, it was….it was the way she had looked at me with that almost imperceptible smile and the way she smelled of flowers. But mainly, the way she had felt in my arms when I held her, and I kept envisioning her lying underneath me and me, pressing my mouth onto hers while she wrapped herself about me.

I was furious and it wasn't at Ju, it was with myself, but she seemed a fair scapegoat.

"I'm going to gather firewood. If you need to take care of your 'matters,' do it now and don't go far; it's late and there are animals out there. As for chickens, Unfortunately, there aren't 'wild' chickens roaming around so looks like dinner'll be rice, and if you want some, dried beef. And…" I was going to tell Ju that I was going to make two fires – one for them and their rice and tea, and one for me and my coffee but never did. Ju didn't need to know anyway that I planned to keep watch all night and would need more than one pot of coffee to stay awake. As I said, I was going to tell Ju that, when Wu Lien peeked out of the wagon door and then I couldn't think of anything else but her.

It's impossible for me to describe Wu Lien's beauty. All I can say is that compared to her, every other woman I had ever met up to that point seemed almost mannish. She was, in my mind, the epitome of all that was female, all that any man would ever want in a woman.

I remember when I was a boy and hung around the kitchen while Hop Sing cooked, listening to his tales of China and Chinese beliefs and customs. I always had questions – endless questions - and Hop Sing would laugh and say there were too many things filling my head now and that soon, they would spill out my ears. But he would always answer me and talk about China and how he often longed for it. To appease his desire for home, he would say with a smile, he was bringing China here, sending money for one 'cousin' after another to join him.

Anyway, one story he told was about the lotus flower and Kwan Yin, the goddess of mercy. Kwan Yin stood on the lotus, often holding one in her hands of compassion, as it was the symbol of perfection and purity and feminine beauty. The lotus rose from out of the muck and mud and turned its perfect face up to the sun. And that was Wu Lien's face – perfect and pure.

But in my late 20's, once greater numbers of Chinese settled in Virginia City, I ordered a book from a publishing house in New York, about Chinese symbols and beliefs. It was there that I read the lotus represents the privates of a woman, how they bloom open for her master, welcoming him. I could see how all aspects of the lotus flower applied to the beautiful Wu Lien and if she would 'bloom' for me...well, the idea was intriguing – and arousing.

That night I ate about 10 yards from the women, sitting near my own fire. I didn't even taste the jerky and hard tack. After a dinner of plain, boiled rice. Ju and Wu Lien sat huddled together, whispering, nodding, and drinking their tea. I noticed Wu Lien's small, delicate fingers as she held the handle-less cup while Ju kept it constantly filled. Wu Lien's hair was pulled back and tied at the nape of her elegant neck and I kept glancing at her – couldn't keep my eyes from her. She would look across at me and then drop her eyes. Were I a young man sitting in church and a sweet young thing had kept looking at me like that, I would've hung around after services and asked to walk her home. I might even have tried to steal a sweet kiss. But this wasn't mere flirtation, at least not on my part; I wanted more than a kiss and it actually scared me a bit, that the urge might overwhelm me.

That night, while the two women slept in the wagon, I sat awake cradling my rifle, my back against the outcrop of rocks, thinking. I wondered how Wu Lien looked as she slept, what her flawless face was like in repose. And why did I find her so irresistible? Had she bewitched me? Had the two women worked a spell with herbs and magic incantations?

Of course, I knew the idea was ridiculous and I didn't believe it, but it would have been a convenient excuse for how I felt. Just the memory of Wu Lien made my blood heat. It was absurd. As soon as I had finished with this cursed errand, I would go to the Bucket of Blood, drink too much and then seek out the warmth of a "professional" woman. That would wipe all thoughts of Wu Lien out of my mind. I was sure of it.

I must have drifted off at some time because I jerked awake at a noise, my gun at the ready. It was Ju starting up a fire.

"You should've said something. I almost shot you," I said, standing up and trying to unkink my back. I felt as if I had wrestled a bear, my low back, aching. I expected a response, Ju shouting that I needed to start a fire or to get chickens, something. But she just glanced up at me and squatting, slowly stirred up the embers. A pot of water was waiting to put on the fire and I saw a bowl of rice beside it.

The sun was rising. I slid my rifle back into the scabbard and then told Ju to make a quick breakfast; we needed to set out. She nodded without looking up, and I went about watering the horses and hitching them up to the traces. I also saddled my own horse; I didn't know if I would need to ride off after someone but the thought occurred to me. If Wu Lien stayed in the minds of the men of Jawbone, if she stirred them as she did me, they might still come for her. I guess you can tell I was on edge. But I also worked slowly, hoping to see Wu Lien. But after their breakfast of tea and rice, Ju and Wu Lien left the wagon to take care of their needs with Wu Lien wearing her veil to protect her from the sun.

I finished my coffee and the rest of the rice in the pot, longing for the bacon I never bought at the Blue Copper Company Store. And then I waited until they returned. The sun was high by then and it was becoming hot. And I watched Wu Lien as she managed to walk on her absurdly small feet, her hips swaying in the swathing of silk, embroidered robes. And I thought of what Ju had told me about Wu Lien never being able to play and run as a child, never allowed in the sun. And still she wasn't allowed to let the sun shine on her skin. She was like a porcelain doll – as beautiful and as fragile.

We traveled for about 6 hours before stopping to eat. Not once, in all that time, had Ju shouted at me to stop. She had been quiet and it disturbed me even more than her yelling. Something had shifted, had changed and I realized that Ju hadn't actually spoken to me the whole day. Apparently, it had happened overnight – something had.

I could see a lake in the distance, The sparkling water barely visible in the distance through the trees. I pulled up close to it, within walking distance, and waited but neither woman came out of the wagon. Then I began to unhitch the horses, deciding we had put enough distance between us and the miners and if any of them had the idea to follow us and cause trouble, they probably would have by now. I was unsaddling my horse when Ju came quietly out of the wagon, stepping onto the ground and looked at me.

"We stop now? Eat?" Her tone was low, as if she regretted even having to speak to me.

"Yes. You can fix your supper. We traveled quite a way over a rough stretch and I want to rest the horses. I think…" I stopped what I was doing, paused, and finally asked what had been concerning me. "Is Wu Lien ill? Was she hurt yesterday?"

For some reason my question angered Ju. She began yelling and rudely jabbing her finger at me while her brows furrowed. "You no ask of her! Her not your business! Mistah Adam Cartwright stay away Wu Lien. Him is…Pah!" She spat on the ground. "Wu Lien, Fang Zhen – them are 'he tiang ming'! Heaven choose joining! You stay away Wu Lien!"

"With pleasure," I said, making an exaggerated bow. I swept my saddlebag off the ground and walked away.

"Where you go?" Ju asked, following me.

"Away from you." I slung my saddlebags over my shoulder and headed for the lake. I intended to wash myself, wash my clothes, and shave. I figured it was time. Had I been alone or in the company of other hairy, stinking men, it wouldn't have mattered, but after being so close to Wu Lien, it made me aware of why the Chinese might justifiably refer to whites as barbarians. My people referred to the Chinese as barbarians because of their pagan beliefs, their clothes and customs. But who was really the unwashed, vulgar barbarian?

I knew that once darkness fell, the chill would return to the air. But it would be hot for at least another hour or so, the sun beating down. So, tossing my hat, saddlebags and gun belt on a rock, and finally pulling off my boots, I went swimming with my clothes on. The movement would serve to wash the filth away. Once back on shore, I wrung out my clothes and threw them, long johns and all, over a few tree branches to dry.

It really was a lovely spot, the lake bordered by a few residual boulders and trees. The grass was lush and I thought of the horses and how they could fill up. I pulled out my razor and bar of soap and scooping up some water in a tin cup, made a lather. I sat on one of the larger rocks, gingerly so as not to burn my backside on the sun-heated surface, and proceeded to shave, holding up a small mirror. I was almost finished when I heard a sound behind me. I jumped off the boulder and grabbing my gun belt, pulled out the gun, pointing it in the direction of the noise.

Ju was standing with two pots and a few pieces of linen. Seeing me, she pointed and laughed –practically hooting. Wu Lien, wearing a thin, gauzy veil over her face, stood beside Ju and when I looked to her, she dropped her eyes and covered her mouth, hiding any amusement she may have enjoyed.

"See, Wu Lien! Him look like big, hairy bear! Hair all over!" Ju laughed even more. "Him ugly! Him like beast in forest!"

Wu Lien turned and as quickly as she could without falling, she headed back to the camp. Snorting with disgust, Ju headed to the water's edge, glancing at me while I pulled on my damp trousers and shirt; my long underwear was still too wet to put on. Ju, glancing at me, talked to herself in Chinese while she washed out the pots, the linens in a small pile beside her; I could see they were probably undergarments. But I left, grabbing my belongings. I just wanted to get away from Ju. And I had horses to water and a camp to secure.

If Wu Lien was back at camp when I arrived, she was in the wagon. I was tempted to call to her, to make certain she was safe inside but I couldn't. I realized I was embarrassed and surprisingly ashamed of being so hirsute. But at least I was now clean and shaven. At least until tomorrow.

The women ate their dinner inside the wagon. Ju had apparently gathered some cattails while down at the lake and sliced the root bulb, frying them and spooning them over the rice. I was sitting, drinking coffee while she cooked over a small fire and Ju never looked my way or spoke to me. She made it a point to keep her back to me but after she finished with the cattails, she looked over her shoulder at me and smiling, she tossed the cattail brushes over her shoulder my way. "You eat," she said. "Food for you not fit for Wu Lien."

I felt like a mongrel dog being tossed scraps. It was all I could do not to respond and had Ju been a man, I never would have tolerated being insulted like that. But what could I say or do? Her sense of superiority annoyed me. I had let a woman who only came to my waist, embarrass me, humiliate me, and make me feel inferior. I had never been in a situation like that before and was at a loss. That alone angered me, more at myself than Ju. But I said nothing, just drank my coffee, ate my jerky and hard tack and sat alone.

That night, while I tried to sleep, I kept reliving the scene at the lake. It wasn't my nakedness that bothered me – but their reaction to it – particularly Ju's. And then it hit me. Wu Lien, to my knowledge, didn't understand English. All of Ju's insults had been in English, were for me to hear, for me to know what she would later say to Wu Lien. But why? Why did Ju feel it was necessary to point out the differences between white men and Chinese men and denigrate me? What threat did I pose to the status quo?


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

The next three days were without incident – and without Wu Lien. She didn't come out of the wagon and Ju continued to ignore me except when she needed something; she treated me as nothing more than a lowly servant and in a manner, I suppose I was. We made good time though, but by midday, it rained. By night it had stopped but the ground was still wet. It made for miserable sleeping as my blankets remained damp and even the nearby fire didn't help. And in the morning, my back was stiff.

I said I didn't see Wu Lien over those three days and that was true, but I heard her. In the evenings, she took to playing a stringed instrument and singing. Her voice was lovely, tender and melodious and it almost brought tears to my eyes. She also played what sounded like a flute, the notes odd to my ear but pleasant, nevertheless. I would lie on my bedroll and listen to her, picturing her lovely face. If I'd had any whiskey left, I would've drunk some and found the time even more pleasurable.

One morning when Ju was making breakfast for the two of them, I asked her about the musical instruments, what they were called.

"Her learn play many years ago – have special teacher. Learn music to please husband one day. Her play 'meihuaqin'." Ju imitated the plucking of strings, both on the body of an instrument and a fretted neck. "Her also play 'plum blossom'." She made the motions as if playing a flute.

"I'd like to see Wu Lien play some time. Perhaps tonight she could…" I never even finished before Ju was up and at me like a hornet.

"No! Her play for Fang Zhen only – no play for you! Music for husband, for after body's pleasure. Man listen and smile at wife. Him love Wu Lien for giving pleasure many ways – for body and soul. Music not for you. You….you are yĕ mȃn! Pah!" She spat at the ground again.

I said nothing else but a movement caught my eye - Wu Lien looked out the wagon door. Our eyes met and then she ducked back inside. It was as if the sun had briefly peeked out from behind clouds on a gloomy day, adding a touch of brightness and beauty, and then, just as quickly, hid again.

As I said, we made good time and would make Virginia City in three more days if we kept the same pace. The weather had turned balmy and warm, a light breeze blew and it was pleasant travel. I stopped wherever there was water nearby and became more cautious in my bathing and shaving, only taking care of the essentials. But it seems I didn't have to worry about a repeat of the earlier incident as Ju and Wu Lien never left camp until I returned – and I returned quickly, not wanting to leave them for too long.

But one and a half days from Virginia City, as I was driving the team of horses, I felt the hair prickle the back of my neck. I slapped my nape, expecting to kill a crawling insect but there was nothing. I scratched and then ignored the feeling. But it wouldn't leave. I sensed we were being followed. I stopped the wagon, listening for sounds, a horse whinnying, the sound of a branch being snapped by a horse hoof, a man'but heard nothing. Nothing but Ju who stuck her head out the wagon window.

"Why you stop? Need hurry get to Fang Zhen! Quickly! We go now!"

I put up my hand, my head cocked to listen, and as hard as it is to believe, the subtle gesture caused Ju to stop talking and listen as well. I heard Wu Lien's small voice from inside the wagon and Ju turned and said something softly in Chinese. Then, in a lower voice, Ju asked me, "It men from bad town? Men who want Wu Lien? It them?"

I waited, listening. "I thought I heard something. I guess I was wrong." But Ju was cautious and she still listened, sticking out her head, her eyes narrowed. I snapped the reins and the horses started again. But I was uneasy all day. I decided to set up camp before dark.

I tried to talk myself out of the feeling that someone was following us and waiting for the right time to make themselves known. Why wait so long? Were they trying to judge how many of us there were? If it were men from Jawbone, they already knew our number and that I was the only man. Perhaps, I considered, they were Indians. There had been no Indian trouble for a few years but that didn't preclude a renegades looking for wives. Or scalps. Or horses. Or just a little fun.

About an hour before nightfall, I found what I considered a safe place to camp and drove the wagon about so the back door faced a brook that rolled over rocks and swirled around as the water made its way downhill. I would stake the horses near the brook. They would serve as watch-outs, calling out to approaching horses. I would sleep with my back to them and a camp fire between me and the wagon.

"We stop now?" Ju called as I unhitched the horses. I told her we were, and she set about to prepare their dinner. After watering the horses, I tethered them and was about to wash the day's dust and smell off myself when I heard some rustling in the grass. I slowly scanned the far side of the brook and saw a small, brown rabbit. They usually came out this time of day, at dusk. It sat looking about, its nose twitching, taking in the smells.

I never liked killing rabbits. When my father and I collected pelts to sell in New Orleans, I didn't mind skinning the beavers of foxes or even the coyotes but rabbits were different. They were helpless creatures. But a nice, fat rabbit would taste good roasted on a makeshift spit. I pulled out my gun, took aim and fired. The horses jumped and pulled at their ropes but I had a rabbit. It wasn't quite dead though, still kicked as it bled. So, I snatched it up by its head and with a snap of my wrist, broke its neck. And the oddest thing – I suddenly remembered a childhood rhyme from somewhere, told to me by someone – "Bye, baby Bunting, Daddy's gone a hunting to get a little rabbit skin to wrap the baby Bunting in." I shook my head at my foolishness; what a time to think of such a thing.

Needless to say, despite being upset by the noise and demanding to know what it was, Ju was thrilled with the rabbit and I set about to make a spit while Ju deftly skinned it. I considered that my pa and I couldn't have done it half so well. But Ju tossed the rabbit skin into the trees.

"No," I said as I went to fetch it. "It might attract wolves or coyotes. I'll bury it." With a sturdy stick, I managed to start a hole and then scooped out the dirt with my hands. When I finished, darkness had fallen but the pelt along with the guts, was buried and the savory smell of the roasting rabbit was making my mouth water and my stomach cramp with hunger. When I stood up, I saw Wu Lien kneeling in the doorway of the wagon, watching me. And as all the times before, she dropped her gaze when I looked her way.

While the rice boiled and after I washed my hands, I crouched near my saddle and bedroll and cleaned my nails with my penknife. I mentally chided myself; suddenly I had become intent on keeping myself clean. I even wished I had bathed instead of killing the rabbit for dinner. My usual habit when I was home was to wear clean shirts and trousers every day along with daily washing and shaving, but I had never before been so concerned while on the trail. It was obviously Wu Lien who made me so self-conscious.

That night, dinner was good and I suppose since I had provided the rabbit, Ju felt they should share the rice. But I still ate alone near the fire while the women ate inside the wagon. But over the sound of the frogs at the brook and distant wolf howls, I heard Wu Lien's voice and it sounded, from her tone, that she was reprimanding Ju. Ju replied harshly, they argued some more and then fell silent. But I knew that my interpretation of their voices may have been incorrect but it did make me wonder who was actually in charge – Wu Lien or Ju.

I fed the fire before I settled down in my bedroll, having already checked on the horses, my gun at ready. I hadn't heard anything all evening to indicate we had been followed but it was a feeling I couldn't shake. I knew it would be a rough night for sleeping but finally, my rifle lying beside me and my pistol near my hand, I tucked myself into the bedroll and attempted to get some sleep. I kept hearing noises – field mice, a kit fox perhaps, a bobcat or any nocturnal animal. An owl perched in the branches of a nearby tree and I watched it for a while, the firelight eerily reflected in its eyes as it stared.

I apparently had fallen asleep because I jerked awake. A horse had nickered. I grabbed up my gun, started to rise and then something slammed against my back. I fell over. I had dropped my gun and reached for it but I felt another slam across the back of my skull. I fought to keep conscious as pain radiated down my neck and nausea filled me. I tried to rise as I heard and then felt someone creep past me, heading for the wagon. I raised my head and saw two men, one larger, broader than the other. They were wearing Chinese-style clothing – cotton pajamas and tunics with black hoods over their heads. These weren't miners from Jawbone.

And then it started. I tried to reached my gun; it had been kicked a few feet away. My head spun and throbbed, my stomach roiled as I crawled toward it. One man climbed into the wagon, pulling out Wu Lien who was wrapped in a silk sleeping robe and nothing more. She screamed, her bare legs flailing as the man wrapped his arms about her and held her. And Ju, yelled, struck the man who roughly pulled her out by her ankles. My eyes didn't focus well but I could see that he struck Ju with a cudgel, probably the one used on me. Ju dropped to the ground, moaning. He struck her as she tried to raise up, calling out one last time. I'm sure she was calling him vulgar names, threatening him - threatening them, but the men ignored her and the larger one pushed her aside with his squat boot.

One man, the smaller man, held Wu Lien's arms, pushing her to a kneeling position, her robe falling open. The other man grabbed her hair, forcing her head up. He said something to the smaller man, who shook his head as if saying no, as if disagreeing. But the other man gazed into Wu Lien's face and then harshly said something and pulled a knife.

Wu Lien pled, her small voice begging; she knew what they were going to do and I don't think it was kill her. He caressed her face with one hand, speaking what sounded like words of love in a soft voice, holding the knife with the other. Then, the man behind her held Wu Lien's chin with one hand as if steadying it – the larger man was going to mutilate her face.

I finally reached my gun and gripped it, my head still throbbing. I raised it and hoping my aim was true, I squeezed the trigger and the larger man dropped, the knife flying from his hand. I had shot him in the back. He fell against Wu Lien who cried in pain – she had been knocked back and the man still held her hair. She grabbed at his hands, trying to keep him from pulling her hair.

I scrambled to my feet, pointing my gun. "Let her go,' I said. I was unsteady and I could see the man was judging the situation. Ju was on the ground groaning. He had Wu Lien and lifted her by her hair until she was on her cloth-bound feet. And he shouted something at me in a quavering voice. He sounded more like a boy than a man, a frightened boy.

"Let her go," I shouted again. Ju tried to rise from the dirt, moaning. She saw the man holding Wu Lien about the waist. Somehow, Ju managed to get to her knees, shouting in Chinese. And Wu Lien looked at me helplessly. I slowly approached the two of them. "Ju, tell him to let Wu Lien go. Tell him to release her or I'll kill him.

Ju did as I ordered and the man started to walk backwards, dragging Wu Lien with him. He probably had a horse tied not far away. Hopefully, if I offered the opportunity, he would release Wu Lien and run. I decided to take a chance and tossed my gun on the ground, much to Ju's displeasure.

"See. Just let her go and you can leave." I kept approaching him and he said something in a shaky voice but it was Chinese.

"What Mistah Adam Cartwright do? Him throw gun! What him do! You kill man! Him want cut off Wu Lien's nose – slice lips off. You kill him! Now!"

I stepped closer and even with the black hood on his head, I could tell he was afraid, terrified of the bok gwai and all the horrible deeds the whites did. I had the upper hand now. The man stopped, paused. He shoved Wu Lien at me and turned to run. I caught her and saw her face, that beautiful face that had come so close to being destroyed. She held on to my arms, speaking to me, the tears in her eyes. I wanted to go after the man – more than likely a boy –- and I was conflicted. But I steadied her and then took off after the boy. Wu Lien followed me — why I didn't know. I quickly closed the distance between us and he was trying to get on a horse that kept going in circles. I grabbed him and took great pleasure in slamming my fist into his face as I swung him around. He dropped to the ground, out completely.

I pulled off the hood. It was one of Feng Zeng's youngest sons by one of his 'nieces', a boy of about 15 years old. I was sure then that the dead man was more than likely Fang Shan, Fang Zhen's eldest son by his only legitimate wife. Him I knew, had a few dealing with - a bad-tempered, arrogant man.

Wu Lien had managed to reach me by then, breathing heavily and supporting herself by holding onto a slender tree. I considered how to manage what needed to be done.

"Bring me a rope," I said, looking up at her and mimed tying a rope about the boy's wrists. "Rope. Go get me a rope." I waited and then Wu Lien nodded and took the sash from her robe which then fell open completely. She wasn't shy or embarrassed. I tried not to stare but she was almost more perfect in body than face. I took the sash and wrapped it many times about the boy's wrists but I knew that in my condition, I couldn't drag him. Maybe I could get Ju to help me, each of us grabbing an ankle. It would be a type of justice for Ju to employ.

I stood up and said we would go back to camp and motioned. We walked a few steps, my holding her elbow while she held her robe closed. Wu Lien seemed to trip. I reached for her, pulling her upright. And for a few seconds we stood looking at each other. And then she flung herself at me, and while I held her, she pulled my head down and pressed her lips to mine. And for the first time, I didn't think, didn't analyze or evaluate my actions – I just responded. I pulled her closer and she softly murmured words in Chinese, kissing my neck, my chest, her soft hands rushing over my skin like lotus petals on the wind, and we dropped together onto the soft grass.


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

The absurdity of my situation wasn't lost on me. A man I'd shot to death was lying in the dirt back at camp, Ju had been attacked and injured, an unconscious boy was no more than a few yards away and I was lying half-naked in the cool grass with a beautiful woman in my arms who was kissing me, clinging to me and talking in Chinese. And I was enjoying all the sensual aspects of being with her, was delighting in giving myself over to the pure pleasures of the body, unsullied by a conscience or morals.

Even in the darkness, I could see Wu Lien's beauty. She was ethereal and moved me in ways I had never experienced. Even with being physically spent, Wu Lien's voice, the touch of her small hands, her mouth moving and nimble tongue still raised me to heights. We were akin to the animals who coupled in the wild and gave no thought to anything else but the moment of joining.

"Wu LeeYEN! Wu LeeYEN!" Ju was calling and Wu Lien sat up, her long dark hair falling about her face and shoulders like a sheet. I reached for her and pulled her back to me, kissing her, wrapping my arms about her, overwhelming her, and she willingly opened to me. Again, her smooth skin was such a contrast to mine, her tender mouth so vulnerable as was the rest of her.

"Wu LeeYEN! Wu LeeYEN! Mistah Adam Cartwright!"

Wu Lien struggled slightly in my arms and I released her. She said something to me in rapid Chinese, looking fearfully toward the sound and then back at me. I couldn't resist her. I pulled her to me again and kissed her mouth, her closed eyes. She moaned. But Ju was coming closer.

I raised Wu Lien as I stood up. Quickly, I buttoned and tucked in my shirt and Wu Lien held her robe closed. Then we headed to camp, Ju now calling only my name, "Mistah Adam Cartwright! Where you are? Where you are? Where Wu Lien?" There was an edge of panic to her voice.

We met up with Ju at the edge of the trees. She looked relieved to see us, sighed and stated to talk in Chinese, until we stepped closer and she saw us better. Then her face darkened with anger and she began to talk rapidly in Chinese, gesticulating wildly, looking to me and then back at Wu Lien who let her robe fall open as she held on to my arm as if protecting me. But it had to be obvious what had transpired between Wu Lien and me. From the way Ju looked back and forth at us, she knew. "Ohhhhh…." Ju said. She raised her hands and looked to the heavens. Then Ju spoke sternly but Wu Lien's jaw shot out defiantly as she answered. Ju was demanding in whatever she was asking or saying and Wu Lien released me, clutched her wrap about her and headed to the camp, entering the glow of firelight. I was behind her – she seemed even smaller now and more vulnerable and when I thought of what almost happened to the face I adored, a chill ran through me.

Ju harshly spoke, grabbing Wu Lien's arm. Wu Lien answered, almost with a sob, and headed to the wagon until she saw the dead man lying by it. She stared at the corpse and spoke in low tones to herself in the way someone might pray to stave off a curse. Ju, changing not just her tone but her stance, went to Wu Lien and spoke softly, placing her arm about her. Wu Lien nodded and seemed to try to take another step past the body but couldn't. I quickly swept her up and carried her to the wagon. And after I let her down inside, Wu Lien kneeled at the open door and held my face in her hands, speaking gently to me, She said what she had earlier cried out as we lay together – " Wo ài nĭ." And she leaned closer and kissed me. I felt my chest tighten with emotion. Looking at Wu Lien's face, I realized she was more beautiful than I could have imagined any woman to be and if Ju hadn't rushed over like some harpy, I would have taken Wu Lien to me again, held her next to me, kissed her mouth, her neck and her soft belly and breasts, listened to her moans and been encouraged by them even if we ended up on the ground next to the dead man's body.

But Ju was right there, sticking her bulldog-like face into mine. "You stay away from Wu Lien, you…you goddamn!" Ju told me. Even hurt by the dead man's attack on her, Ju was strong, tugging at my arm to pull me away. I think if she had known how to use a gun, she would have shot me right then and there. Then she said something in Chinese to Wu Lien, chastising her. Wu Lien answered sharply and looking sadly at me, she softly closed the wagon door.

Ju turned on me again. "Her not for you! Her give to Fang Zhen. Him kill Wu Lien him know she lay with you. You are goddamn!"

"Well, I may be goddamned but…" I glanced at the wagon. A lantern was on inside and I wondered what Wu Lien was doing. Was she washing by the dim light, reminding herself of what we had done. I practically had to shake myself to come back to what was necessary. Ju's visage was sobering. "I need to bring the other attacker back to camp; it's one of Fang Zhen's sons." I leaned down and pulled the black hood off the head of the body in the dirt. "As I thought; this is Fang Zhen's eldest son, Fang Shan. He's the son of the first wife, the true wife."

"You lie. Him not Fang Zhen's son."

"No, 'him' is Fang Zhen's son," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I was aware of my head throbbing again, my pulse drumming in my ears. "I need your help with the other one, Ju. I don't know if he speaks English. C'mon." Ju looked at Fang Shan's body, spat, and said something in Chinese. Then we headed off to find the boy.

It took me a while to find him as I wasn't quite sure of the direction – I had been in pursuit and not paying particular attention. I stopped and listened and Ju did as well. "What you goddamn hear?" she asked.

What I heard was a horse and a man's desperate grunts. I hurried to the sound and saw that the boy was trying to get on a horse with his hands still bound behind his back – a ridiculous attempt as the horse shied away from him each time he approached it and would have run off if it hadn't been tied to a thick tree branch. But the boy was desperate and kept trying to get a boot into a stirrup. He must have heard us come upon him as he turned and seeing us, tried to run. His bound wrists made him awkward and I quickly caught him, grabbing him by his collar and jerking him about.

"Ju, get the horses," I ordered, pulling the boy along with me.

"What you mean, get goddamn horse?. You get! I not Mistah Adam Cartwright servant!"

Holding the boy with one hand, I grabbed the front of Ju's top and jerked her up as well. "Now you listen to me. I feel like hell and I have no patience for any of your crap. Get the goddamn horses and bring them back to the goddamn camp or I'm going to shake you like a goddamn dog shakes a goddamn rat. Do you goddamn understand?"

Suddenly Ju was smiling and nodding, I released her. "Ju happy get goddamn horses for Mistah Adam Cartwright." I waited while she managed, after some awkward struggling, to get both horses' reins, and together we walked back to camp. But Ju was wary of the horses and their teeth and tried to walk backwards. That caused the horses to resist.

"Give me the reins," I said, grabbing them from Ju. "Here." I pushed the boy toward her. "You take him back to camp." And he looked more frightened of Ju than he ever did of me.

~ 0 ~

With his hands bound behind him, the boy dropped to his knees by his brother's body, rocking back and forth, crying and mourning in Chinese. He may have been praying, may have just been bemoaning his loss, but I didn't care. I just wanted to lie down and get some rest but there was still so much to do. And so much had already happened in such a short time.

I grabbed a rope, pulled up the boy and then pushed him down with his back against a wagon wheel. I tied him to it. I squatted down to interrogate him.

"I'm Adam Cartwright from the Ponderosa and I knew your brother Fang Shan." The boy wouldn't look at me. "Why did you and your brother attack Wu Lien?" I was certain that if my head hadn't hurt so bad, if my mind wasn't still full of Wu Lien, remembering her silky skin over which my lips glided, her breasts that fit in my hands, her lean thighs and her scent of flowers and perfume – well, if I could stop thinking of her, I could understand what had happened and why. But even Wu Lien's breath was like blossoms. I couldn't concentrate – my mind kept going back to Wu Lien. I tried to stay in the moment. What puzzled me the most was why they hadn't killed me and Ju. Why didn't they just kill Wu Lien when they had the chance? I saw the way the two men had looked at her, how they had seemed to disagree, and Fang Shan had caressed her face, spoken almost reverently. If they found her even half as beautiful as I did, half as desirable, they could have both taken her, done unspeakable acts with her and then killed her. But they hadn't. All they seemed to want was to disfigure her. I couldn't understand. And the boy wouldn't answer.

"Ju know."

"What?" I turned. Ju was standing behind me.

"Ju know why they here, why they want slice face Wu Lien." The boy looked up at her, his eyes wide with fear; Ju, her eyes narrow, held the abandoned knife with its dragon-caved handle, moving it in a tight figure-eight. "Maybe we make him girl – make him fi jiàn."

"No, no," the boy said, drawing his legs back, his eyes wide.

"Okay, Ju," I said wearily. "You tell me why they're here."

"Fang Zhen wives not want new wife, not want young, beautiful wife. Fang Zhen spend all nights with Wu Lien, give her many gifts. Old wives unhappy. Sons honor mothers' wishes and make Wu Lien ugly. Then Fang Shen not want Wu Lien– send her away and all as was before."

"Is that it?" I still squatted before the boy. If he spoke English, and I was sure he did, he would understand Ju's explanation.

The boy still wouldn't meet my eyes but he answered me. "Yes."

"What's your name, boy?" He turned frightened eyes to me but said nothing more. "It really doesn't matter anyway," I said. "You'll have to tell Sheriff Coffee in Virginia City."

Resigned, the boy slumped and answered, "Fang Mill-ard." I had to smile; apparently, he was named after Millard Fillmore, president the year he was born. It must have been an attempt to help him better fit in white man's society

"Well, Millard, you're our prisoner until I turn you over to the law, so I'm going to have to keep you tied up. Then Sheriff Coffee can deal with you and your father." I stood up and my knees protested. My whole body ached. I glanced at Fang Shan's body. "I'm sorry about your brother. I wish none of this had ever happened."

Ju harrumphed at my conciliatory words and spat again at the corpse as she passed it to go into the wagon. Then I set about wrapping the body in one of my blankets, tying it with rope and pulling it out of Millard's sight. He shouldn't have to stare at the body of his dead brother. Tomorrow I would tie it over the back of one of their two horses. I took another of my blankets and tucked it about Millard. There was no reason he should freeze. I built up the fire for the night and looked about. The horses had been tended, the women were safe although I could hear them arguing in the wagon – at least it sounded like arguing - and finally, fatigue overcame me.

Now I could lie down wrapped in my one blanket left and hopefully ease the pain in my head and back. I longed for a dose of laudanum to lure me into a deep sleep but the blood pounded in my temples. I threw an arm over my eyes, waiting to drop off, and was about there when I felt a cool hand touch my brow. I jerked awake and grabbed the wrist. It was Wu Lien. I let her go and was going to speak but she smiled gently and softly said something. – I had no idea what - but she rose and beckoned me. I couldn't help but follow.


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

The gods smiled on me – at least Wu Lien's Chinese gods. I was unsure why she had wanted me to follow her into the wagon. For a few seconds, I considered perhaps Ju was ill but there was no urgency about Wu Lien's actions. I stepped inside, ducking slightly, and was surprised at how neat and clean and pleasant the interior was; lanterns hung from the pegs, throwing a soft light about, and the place smelled of flowers. Flower-patterned embroidered quilts and pillows lay on two matching mattresses, one of each side under the windows, allowing a narrow aisle between. I wondered if this was how the interior of a Chinese brothel looked. But my thoughts were interrupted by Wu Lien, taking off my jacket.

I glanced at Ju who sat cross-legged on her 'bed', looking disgruntled. It was obvious she disapproved of my being there.

"Look, I don't think my being here is a good idea," I said to Wu Lien who basically overrode my protests by pulling my sleeves off my arms; she spoke in a smooth, sing-song voice, reassuring me. I thought of the boy tied-up outside. Could he hear what we were saying? And if so, would he remember, only to repeat our conversation to his father?

Wu Lien was determined. After she had removed my shirt, she had me lie down on her bed; I should have refused right then and there and gone back outside to the cold and my thin blanket on the hard ground. There I could wait to be bitten by mosquitoes, a spider or some wayward scorpion. But I laid down as Wu Lien insisted, and the softness of the padding, the seductiveness of the warmth kept me there as well as Wu Lien's gentle hands and beautiful face. Smiling, she kneeled beside me and laved my forehead with cool, scented water. Ju mumbled under her breath in English, not looking at us, but wanting me to know her opinion of Wu Lien's ministrations.

"Pah! Not worth water! Not worth time! Him not husband, him not nothing - only bok gwai. Why her want him, Ju not know? Her not wise. Her waste self on him. Pah!"

Wu Lien wiped my chest with the cool water, drying my skin quickly after so I wouldn't be chilled. And the whole time she spoke softly to me. I watched her face the while and I was still in awe of her perfection. I couldn't help but echo Ju's thoughts. Why had Wu Lien wanted me? I stank most of the time, had stubble on my cheeks and chin, wasn't anything that a Chinese woman of good breeding – any Chinese woman actually - would even look at twice. And yet she had thrown herself at me, eagerly let me deflower her and now was tending to me – willingly. I didn't deserve it.

I could understand the power of passion. I felt desire toward her but I would never have touched Wu Lien, never have even dared to kiss her mouth and yet she desired me. My mind went in a circle trying to understand what attraction I held for her. But she began to sing to me and I felt my body relax. I was no one but a bok gwai – a white ghost.

Wu Lien moved around to the bottom of the mattress and began to pull off my boots. Suddenly I became self-conscious. Granted, I wasn't like Hoss who could clear out the Ponderosa when he pulled off his boots but I had been wearing them with the same pair of socks for two days straight.

"No, no," I said sitting up. "It's all right. You don't have to take off my boots. It's all right."

Wu Lien calmly leaned over me and gently placed her hands on my shoulders, pushing me back onto the mattress, and the scent of her hair as it swung down made me dizzy with desire. Everything about her filled me with pleasure and yearning. So, I lay back down as she wanted, and Wu Lien pulled off my boots and socks. She said something to Ju who, with sounds of disapproval, brought the basin of water and a fresh cloth and then propped up my ankles on pillows. For some reason, and I still find it embarrassing, Wu Lien tenderly washed my feet. I wondered if her plans were to wash all of me, to pull down my trousers and use the cloth to wipe my crotch – and the whole time, with Ju watching and disparaging my manhood and hairiness. But she didn't though. Never before had I had such care taken of me, had I so passively allowed such gentle ministrations.

"Why is she doing this?" I asked Ju.

"Her say…her tell me she want be wife for you tonight. Her say you her husband in heart."

I couldn't say anything after that – nothing would be adequate. And I felt my throat almost close with emotion. No one before had ever cared for me so much. Was that what love was? I didn't know. I thought I knew the emotion, had read poetry and sung love songs to girls on their front porches, read novels and watched grand operas, but I realized I didn't know. Love wasn't only to be expressed by laying with a person – that was secondary. I realized that love was caring more for another than oneself, of being willing to serve another selflessly. But why Wu Lien would love me, I didn't know. Maybe she didn't know any better, I decided. Perhaps I was the first man she actually had physical contact with and she mistook it for love. But I didn't really care. As long as I was with her, I was happy; I didn't need to understand why.

Wu lien massaged my feet, kneaded them, applying pressure with her thumbs and I felt the pain recede – it flowed from me. I felt my neck and back relax - my hands fell open. My eyes were heavy and I knew I was about to succumb to sleep when my feet were covered by a silken cloth that was pulled up to my neck. I wanted to open my eyes, to thank Wu Lien but found I couldn't – my eyelids were like lead. And then the flute music started with its eerie, mystical sound. I knew it was Wu Lien playing and that she was playing for me and I wanted to thank her but it was useless. And then I must have fallen asleep.

I had no idea what time it was, if the sun was close to rising or anything else, just that Wu Lien's slim body moved against me. Her slight weight was on top if me, and I could feel the brush of her hair on my shoulders as it swung back and forth. "Wo ài nĭ," she softly crooned. Then her hair fell across me and I could feel her gasping breath on my cheek. Suddenly, almost as in a dream, I felt a flood of pleasure, and was soon asleep again, aware of nothing.

~ 0 ~

I jerked awake and sat up, my heart thumping. It took a few seconds for me to know where I was – inside the wagon. The sun was streaming through the wagon's east window. It was about almost ten in the morning. I looked around; my boots were standing, waiting for me, and my clothes, neatly folded on top of my jacket. I think, had there been time, they would have been washed and my boots spit-polished.

I quickly dressed and was almost outside when Wu Lien came into the wagon. She was wearing a veil; she took it off and I was again struck at the perfection of her face, the large, luminous eyes, the sweet, plum mouth, and the glossy, black hair bound again with silk ribbons. Obviously, she had washed as her skin glistened with dampness. She smiled when she saw me and curtsied in a way, bending at her knees, dropping her head.

"No," I said, taking her by the upper arms; there was no reason she should submit to me, to bow, I said. I should grovel at her feet, thank her for touching me, caring for me – perhaps even for loving me, I explained. She looked at me again, puzzled, and I took her into my arms, holding her, smelling her hair and feeling her smallness. She spoke again, pulling away and said something, miming eating and drinking. Then she beckoned for me to follow her outside.

Ju was crouching by the fire, sipping tea. The young boy was still bound to the wagon wheel and the rest of the camp looked the same as it had last night. My rifle and gun were still beside my bedroll blanket.

Wu Lien spoke harshly to Ju and reluctantly, Ju brought me a cup of tea. I wanted coffee but I couldn't refuse. It was good tea as far as that went, and I had graciously taken it and drank while Wu Lien smiled. Ju brought my breakfast to me as well, a bowl of rice and from the way she glared at me, I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been poisoned.

I did notice the boy eyeing the food hungrily. "Ju," I asked, "has he been fed." I motioned toward the prisoner.

"Not waste food on him. Him starve dead – Ju happy then."

"Let him have some rice and a little tea. He's just a boy." I released his hands and Ju begrudgingly took him a small bowl of rice. The boy used his fingers to push the sticky rice into his mouth and then he greedily slurped down the tea, probably even swallowing the tea leaves on the bottom.

And then I took Wu Lien and Ju aside; I didn't want the boy to hear.

"We'll be in Virginia City before dinner. I…Ju, I need you to tell Wu Lien some things. Tell her what I'm saying."

"No. Ju not say anything Mistah Adam Cartwright want. Need to make Wu Lien ready for jie xin ren – to give bride from parents to husband."

"Please, Ju, I need you to tell her that she doesn't have to marry Fang Zhen. Tell her that no one can force her. She's in America now and Chinese laws don't apply."

"Her do need marry Fang Zhen. Many people wait for her. Much money paid for her."

Wu Lien looked at me, desperately trying to comprehend what I was saying. I spoke to her, held on to her trying to make myself understood.

"You and I, Wu Lien, we can marry, become husband and wife – not here in Nevada, but somewhere. We can go to another state to be married or to Mexico or Canada. I have money of my own and I'll keep you with me at the Ponderosa until we can leave for somewhere else. Wu Lien, I'll be a good husband to you and make certain you have whatever you want and everything you could ever need. I love you so. Please. Tell me you'll stay with me, that you'll marry me." Wu Lien didn't understand a word I said but she did understand the emotion and clung to me, beginning to softly weep. "Please, Ju, tell her what I said. Please."

Ju frowned. I could tell she was struggling with her decision. She deeply sighed and then, in Chinese, hopefully conveyed what I said. I couldn't be sure but I believe it was a true translation because Wu Lien, reached up to my face and touched my cheek, tears on her cheeks. And she shook her head, no, as she said something to me.

"What did she say?" I asked Ju.

"Her say that duty comes before all."

Wu Lien pulled away from me and hurried into the wagon. I stared after her, not knowing what to do while Ju, hesitating at first, left me to clean up the dishes. I headed to the wagon – I had to make Wu Lien understand - but Ju shouted, "No! Mistah Adam Cartwright! It not easy for Wu Lien. When she say, 'wo ài nĭ,' that mean she love you but her also say that it wrong for her – for you. Her do what must do now. You not stop Wu Lien. You not shame her respected ancestors."

"What the hell have they to do with anything?" I spat out. But I knew they had to do with everything. Many times, I had listened to – smirking – Hop Sing talk about his revered ancestors, how he had to make offerings of rice and cakes to them on special days, burn incense to them, honoring them as if they were gods. Everything good was smiled upon by one's ancestors—one was credit and honor to them - and everything bad was their shame as well as one's own.

I refrained from attempting to persuade Wu Lien to marry me. But I felt lost. Lost and heart-broken.

~ 0 ~

We were two hours or so to Virginia City when we met up with Hoss and Joe.

"You two the welcoming committee?" I asked, holding the reins.

"No, Pa done sent us out to track you down. We was gonna go all the way to San Francisco iffen needed."

"Yeah. You never wired home. He's been waiting for a telegram and all that came was some garbled shit from a place called Jawbone. Pa wired back, asking for clarification but nothing else ever came. I told him not to worry but he said…"

"Why we goddamn stop?" Ju stuck her head out one of the side windows.

"What the hell…?" Hoss said, craning his neck. "Who's that?"

"My conscience." Joe giggled and Hoss grinned. I shouted to Ju, "I've met up with my brothers; that's all. We'll start up again in a goddamn minute." I shook my head in disgust. "Do me a favor, would you?"

"Gag her?" Joe offered.

"That would be a big favor but…"

"What is it?" Hoss asked.

"Fang Shan is dead. I shot him. He's tied over one of the horses."

"Damn, Adam. Why'd you kill 'im?"

"It's a long story and I…his younger brother, Fang Millard is on the other horse – his hands are tied so he can't ride away. Both he and Fang Shen tried to…harm their father's new bride – disfigure her. They had hoods on and a knife… Just take them in to Roy Coffee, would you? I'll press charges later. I have to deliver…the new consort to Fang Zhen."

Hoss and Joe looked at one another. The didn't know what to make of things.

"Fang Shen dead, huh?" Joe said. "You know there's going to be trouble."

"There's already been trouble and I don't think it's over yet. Just take them in to town, would you?"

"Shouldn't we take Fang Shen to his father instead?" Joe asked.

"Wait a minute, Joe," Hoss said. "Adam, if Fang Zhen sent his sons to hurt that woman, why you taking her to him? Ain't that kinda mixed-up?"

"For two reasons. It seems that it's Fang Zhen's wives who wanted the new wife's face cut up. And second, because she wants me to."


	11. Chapter 11

11

Apparently, Fang Zhen's sons were delivered to Sheriff Coffee before the new "wife" was as Fang Zhen was absent from the welcoming group. Lee Chang and two other well-respected Tong elders strode across the lengthy stretch of land to meet the wagon and to take delivery of Wu Lien as if she was cargo.

All afternoon, Ju and Wu Lien had been inside the wagon and once we had stopped on the outskirts of Chinatown where Fang Zhen had his fine home, I went to the wagon door; for once Ju hadn't stuck her head out the "goddamn" window to query as to why we had stopped. I knocked and Ju opened. I wanted to tell her the three men were approaching.

"Fang Zhen isn't with them but three of his peers are here for Wu Lien. And you, I suppose."

"What is peers?" Ju asked suspiciously.

"Men who are as esteemed…" Ju didn't understand the word. "Men who are as important as Fang Zhen." That, Ju understood.

"Wu Lien want see you inside. You come in." Ju stepped aside and I entered the wagon, having to duck my head. All their belongings had been packed and Wu Lien stood, waiting. Her hair was wound and curled about like a thick, glossy, black snake, held in place by gold combs that dripped golden beads and pearls. Long gold earrings framed her face. Her eyelids had been painted with a pink coloring and her lips were blood red. She looked even more exotic and otherworldly. In her small hands, she held the tasseled flute she had played for me the night before. Wu Lien elegantly folded to her knees and bowing her head, she offered up the flute, saying something to me.

"What is she saying?' I asked Ju.

"Her say bamboo flute is for you. Not instrument for woman to play. Only men are to play so she give to you. As…memento."

I dropped to my knees before the woman I so loved. "Wu Lien, I'll take the flute because you want me to. And because every time I put it to my lips, I'll taste the sweetness of your mouth on it and when I play a note, I'll hear your voice. Tell her, Ju. Please." I looked up at Ju who was crying, tears rolling down her plump cheeks. She nodded and in a broken voice, she did as I asked.

"Wu Lien…" I began, holding the flute, running a thumb over its smoothness. I wanted to tell her again that we could be married, to ask her again to come with me to the Ponderosa, but she sharply averted her head and it was like a door shutting in my face. I stood up. If she could close her heart to me, I could do the same. I stepped out of the wagon and greeted Lee Chang and the other two men.

All three noticed the flute in my hand but said nothing about it and neither did I. I wanted to leave before Wu Lien was turned over to them.

"Wu Lien is inside, she and Ju, her…. handmaid. It's been a long ride with unfortunate incidents and I would like to be home, so if you'll excuse me." I tipped my hat to the three men and headed around the wagon to my horse. I intended to slip the flute into a saddlebag and be off; I wanted to lick my wounds in private.

"Before you leave, my friend," Lee Chang said, "I have introductions to make."

I sighed and then turned about. Perhaps this was a necessary courtesy – I didn't know - but also didn't want to offend; I had already killed Fang Zhen's son.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's only my grief over Fang Shan's death and my eagerness to see my father that makes me so rude. Excuse my behavior."

"It is understandable," Lee Chang said. "All of us are filled with the sadness of a fine, young man who was misguided by love for his mother."

This was unusual. Rarely would any of the close-knit group let an outsider like me in on such private affairs. Information traveled quickly.

"Allow me to introduce my most honorable friends. Please to meet Wen Chan and Ming Lee."

We bowed. "It's an honor to meet both of you." They said nothing.

"I also have a message from honorable Fang Zhen to Adam Cartwright."

I waited.

"It is unfortunate that elder son's mother and younger son's mother asked beloved sons to act in such a reprehensible way. They have dishonored their father. Nevertheless, it is with sadness that we acknowledge the death of Fang Shan although we, including Fang Zhen himself, hold Adam Cartwright blameless; some things cannot be avoided."

"I wish it could have been." I made to leave again but Lee Chang continued.

"He also thanks Adam Cartwright for bringing the valued Wu Lien safely to him. As for the ceremony for Wu Lien to become a member of Fang Zhen's household, since it is now a time of sadness, it must be postponed. My wife and I will welcome Wu Lien and her…handmaid as you call her, into our home for the year of mourning. Wu Lien will be treated as a much-loved daughter. After the year of sadness has passed, Fang Zhen will finally see Wu Lien and we will have the celebration. A year of sorrow will be followed by a lifetime of joy."

I paused. A year. Fang Zhen wouldn't take Wu Lien into his bed for a year. And since Lee Chang was one of the most "Americanized" of the Chinese, perhaps Wu Lien would become liberated from the idea of "duty" and allegiance to ancestors. She may even walk away from Fang Zhen and hopefully, come to me.

"Much can happen in a year," I said.

"Yes," Lee Chang said. "Much can happen in one day as I'm certain you know, my good friend. Wishes for much peace in your soul."

And with that, I left for the Ponderosa.

~ 0 ~

Time passed. Sometimes days went quickly, sometimes they dragged. I thought of Wu Lien often – even Ju - and whenever I would see Lee Chang, I would ask after the two of them and his answers were basically non-sequiturs; he never really gave me a straight answer and his smile and courtesy seemed strained, insincere. I wondered if he knew what had passed between Wu Lien and me.

As I said early on, the Chinese took care of their own justice. I never pressed charges against Fang Millard so Roy Coffee was forced to release him to his father the very next day.

"Now, Adam," Roy had said when he came to the Ponderosa about the statement I never made, "I can't say I blame you much – Millard is just a boy. But if he did what he did because an adult told him to, well, I can prosecute the guilty party."

"The guilty party's dead – Fang Shan."

"Now look, Adam," Roy said, holding his hands out in frustration, "if I don't figure out what's what, why them two wanted to harm that young woman, I just might have to arrest you for the cold-blooded murder of Fang Shan."

I knew it was a bluff. Roy had been blocked at every turn in his investigation and was exasperated. No one, including me, had told him much at all. I just sat and stared at him.

"Ben, what am I gonna do about this boy of yours? I know a crime was planned but I don't know who it was who planned it…"

My father threw up his hands. "Don't look at me! Adam hasn't told me anything. I even asked Hop Sing out of pure curiosity, but he pretends not to know what I'm talking about."

"Roy," I said, "the Chinese carry out their own justice. You can't do anything about it. Nothing. And I thought I knew all about what happened, but now, well, Roy, one of Fang Zhen's sons is dead. As far as I ken, he was the responsible one, he had the weapon and had to convince his brother to hold…her still." I was afraid that if I said Wu Lien's name, my feelings for her would come through. "Fang Millard was there because, well, because Fang Shan's his older brother. I can't say I hold any love for Fang Zhen, but he's lost his elder son and I would imagine he and his wife are grieving even more than we can know."

"Oh, speaking of Fang Shan's mother…seems she took some type poison – out of grief, I heard. Word came she died day after yesterday."

"What?"

"And that ain't all." Roy stood up straight, almost proud of having the knowledge of goings-on in Chinatown. But he only knew what the elders, what the Tong wanted him to know and that was all. "Seems that the mother of the younger boy, Millard, fell down a set of stairs, broke her neck."

"How do you know all this?" my father asked. Both he and I were a little surprised – but not that much, really – that Hop Sing hadn't said anything to us. Not that Hop Sing was much of a gossip but this was important news. Fang Zhen was a prominent businessman, owning a laundry and a green-grocery, and he often had transactions – if the astrologer said the timing was fortunate – with Virginia City restaurants and hotels.

"Well, they called out Doc Martin. He filed a report with me of accidental death. Said her neck was twisted almost backwards. I asked him if he was sure she hadn't been killed first and THEN tossed down the stairs, but he said he had no proof for it."

"Losing two wives and one son in just a few days. Tragic," my father said. And then, "How about a drop of Madeira before you leave, Roy? I was going to pour myself one when you arrived."

Roy knew us well enough to see that nothing else was forthcoming and that the offer was a form of closing, so he took off his hat, sat by the fire and enjoyed more than one glass of my father's best sherry along with his company. After all, it was a long ride back to town.

And more time passed. Life on the Ponderosa was predictable, my father was predictable and so were my brothers – Joe falling in love repeatedly or only pretending to, and Hoss relishing every moment of life by indulging in food, drink and anything and everything else. I went through the daily actions, smiled, laughed, rounded up calves, took cattle to slaughter, checked the accounts of the mines and slashed trees for cutting. Months had passed and I still felt hollow inside.

One cold evening in December, two days before Christmas, Hop Sing came quietly into the great room where I sat reading with a glass of brandy by my side, my father was relaxing, smoking his pipe, and Hoss and Joe were bickering over a game of Gin.

I didn't even notice until I heard Hop Sing clear his throat.

"Yes?" my father asked. "Something wrong, Hop Sing?"

"Visitors at kitchen door. Ask for Mistah Adam."

"For me? Who is it?" My mind raced. Who would come to the kitchen door to see me? And it was almost 9:00 at night. That's late for ranchers and homesteaders who rise before the sun.

"Just ask for you. Please if you come." Hop Sing motioned with his hand and suddenly I knew that it had something to do with Wu Lien.

"Adam," my father said rising from his chair, but I put up my hand and he sat back down.

"It's okay," I said and followed Hop Sing into the kitchen.

I could hear my father and brothers talking in low voices. The kitchen door was open, despite the cold, and I went to it and saw Lee Chang standing just outside in a quilted jacket. Ju was behind him.

My mind raced. Lee Chang had never come to the back door before. Why now? And with Ju. Something had happened. Before I could speak, Lee Chang preempted me.

"Adam, I come to you tonight not as a friend. It is only that it was Wu Lien's dying wish…"

"What? Dying wish? Wu Lien is dead? How? Who killed her?" I suddenly thought of Fang Zhen. I would kill him with my bare hands, destroy him and his whole family empire if he was responsible for Wu Lien's death.

Lee Chang turned slightly and motioned to Ju who approached me. She was holding a blanketed bundle in her arms and smiling, pulled back part of it. I saw the face of a newborn. The shape of the eyes was of Chinese blood but the hair was finer and wavy.

"Here is the one who killed Wu Lien," Lee Chang said. Then he stepped away and Ju still smiling, put the child in my arms.

"What's his name?" I asked, entranced by the sleeping infant.

"Wu Lien, she not name son. Want him to have American name. Leave to you."

"He's mine then. My son." I looked at Ju whose eyes filled with tears.

"Yes. After time, her grew big with child. Chang Lee, him and wife keep Wu Lien hidden. Fang Zhen, him not know, not visit - mourning son. Then yesterday, Wu Lien, she….it time for child but her so small…." Ju began to cry. Sobbing, Ju continued. "It hard and her work almost two days to birth child. Not want doctors. Chang Lee, he want call American doctor but her say no, no! If Fang Zhen know of baby, him strangle it. It mark of shame for him if it live. So, Ju and Chang Min, we try to help but once child born, Wu Lien, her smile while tears come. She see child, kiss child, say prayer for ancestor protection of child, and then she say, 'Ju, take boy to father. Take to Adam Cartwright.' And then she die." Ju covered her face with her hands as she cried.

Lee Chang again came to the door and put an arm about Ju, speaking softly in Chinese. She nodded and went back to the waiting wagon.

"What has happened tonight, did not." he said to me. "We shall never speak of this again. I have delivered the child to you, his father. May you see this as a blessing."

"I didn't force myself…" I felt the need to explain about how things had occurred, that I hadn't seduced Wu Lien, but Lee Chang stopped me.

"You have no need to justify your actions. My wife, Min, became a confidante to Wu Lien. Nothing more needs to be said."

The child moved in my arms and yawned, it's small, pink mouth opening. Lee Chang looked at the child in my arms and smiled. "A handsome first-born son." Then he became serious again. "Good night and may the gods look over the child – and his father."

Lee Chang climbed into the waiting small wagon and snapped the reins. He and Ju disappeared into the darkness of the cold night.

I shut the door and turned to see Hop Sing standing. He put out his arms for my son and I reluctantly handed him over. I was stunned. Wu Lien was dead. She was dead and had given birth to our child. And now he was mine to raise. And perhaps he would serve to bridge the two cultures in some way or the other. But it didn't really matter. He was my child, my son. My first-born son.

I took a deep breath. "Let me have him, Hop Sing. I need to introduce him to his grandfather and uncles."

And when I cradled my son in my arms again, he opened his eyes and looked at me. And in them I saw Wu Lien looking back.

~ Finis ~


End file.
